Alone...

   Early this morning as I sat on the pier, the only feeling I had was peace.  The sunrise, the patches of fog, the quietness...all created a feeling of tranquility that only the Bayou can bring.  I felt that sense of belonging. The work day started and ended with much the same feeling...I belonged. Then, this evening, an entirely different feeling engulfed me.  It was weird.  It was not something that I usually entertain but I felt alone...entirely alone.  This is not to even be confused with loneliness...I was not lonely...I was simply alone.  The sensation that I was the only person within miles engulfed me and lingered throughout the evening.  Trust me, folks, it is a strange feeling...very strange.  Other than the ticking of the clocks and the purring of the cat, nary a sound could be heard.  No traffic on the highway to the north...no boat traffic on the Bay.  Looking out the door...nothing could be seen.  A thick blanket of fog blocked any lights from across the Bayou and even the distant shore.  Nothing. 

  This all came after a day of feeling quite accomplished since I completed every chore that I had set before myself last evening.  Laundry was done, pizza sauce had been made and home-canned, "swamp shack" (aka...greenhouse) was painted, cabbage plants were set into the rows and even an art project was started.  I should have felt on top of the world but, instead, I felt alone.  It is hard to describe.  Perhaps...it is better described as being content in solitude and not wishing to return to the frenzy of the outside world.  Alone but definitely not lonely.  I pulled Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, a bit closer and relished the solitude...the tranquility...the aloneness.

Big, Fat Mushroom!

   For the past couple of years, I have been good at doing the isolation thing.  First, it was to be the two weeks.  That spread (at the advice of my doctor) to "a couple of months".  Then before I knew it, that year rolled around and I was still here by myself.  Well, sad to say, it has now become a habit...a daily ritual of sorts to make my rounds of the Bayou and surrounding area and go nowhere else.  My entire world revolves around these nigh on nine acres.  It is a small world for many but it is what my world consists of nowadays and has been for the past two and a half years.

  It is on those early morning hikes that I do my "pondering".  Along the pathways, something will pop up that jogs a memory or simply provokes a good "thinking".  This morning, I came across a lone mushroom sitting out in the middle of nowhere.  Right smack dab in the middle of a grassy space, a big, fat mushroom tilted its head southward as if watching the waters of the Bay.  Hmmm...well.  Maybe that was a hint.  Perhaps I am like that solitary mushroom and should sit and watch the tides roll in and out. 

  Solitude is replenishing.  It is good for the soul.  With it, you become truly aware of yourself and your surroundings.  Take it or leave it...that is where I am at this point.  So...I sat and watched the Bay.

The Way It is

  Being isolated down here on the Bayou has gone beyond just a safeguard measure.  What started two and a half years ago with the onset of COVID has now become a way of life, so it seems.  You hear a lot about the "new normal" and I guess this is it for me.  I am to be isolated for the long haul.  If nothing else, it has made it quite clear of what is and who are needed in life.  Come to find out, life goes on with very little of either.  It just takes a bit of adjustment.  You quickly find that your happiness does not depend on others or on things. 

  Early this morning, I took my mug of coffee to the pier as I have for so many years.  As I sat watching the beauty of the breaking dawn unfold before me, thoughts whirled around in the head.  This life suits me.  I am just an old soul that is drawn to swamps, bayous and mires.  My peace is found there.  While loneliness can be destructive, solitude is refreshing.  Let me just stay right here on my mystical, magical Bayou and all will be fine.  Solitude...isolation...inner peace...all just a perspective.

Be A Butterfly!

   I have a lot of time to ponder things since the social distancing thing has pretty much always been a thing with me.  I prefer to be alone so, generally, people accept that.  This does not mean I am antisocial.  It merely means that I am fine with solitude at any given time and for any length of time.  Like I said, it gives me time to ponder things.  More folks should try it.  Pondering is good for the brain!

  Today's ponderance was about butterflies.  As I watched a black swallowtail sip nectar from the zinnia blooms, I began to wonder how something so fragile can survive in the harshness of a world full of predators.  Here I was not but about a foot from the butterfly and yet it had no fear.   Had I wanted, I could have easily crushed the life from the insect.  Not that I would ever kill one but just the size difference alone would make me seem threatening.  The butterfly totally ignored my presence and kept flitting from flower to flower. 

  You know, sometimes I think we all fret far too much over things.  We see what others are doing and get ourselves in an uproar.  Perhaps if we were more like the butterfly and kept to our own business, others would just go about their merry way, too.  Hopefully, by sticking to the Bayou by myself, peace will continue to surround me.  It is delightful!

Just Being Me

  After two days of high winds, we finally got a nice soaking rain overnight.  The morning was cool with a slight breeze blowing over the Bay.  The sky, however, stayed heavily overcast making my sunrise visit to the pier a bit dismal.  Then, suddenly, a brilliant light lit up the sky to the southeast far from the sunrise.  This beautiful, fuchsia glow lasted only moments before it faded into darkness again.  The occurrence brightened my spirits immensely as it seemed that the show was performed strictly for me.  It is not often that one can say that a phenomenon of this magnitude was solely a personal thing but, hey, it was.  Figure this.  Even if someone else was out at that exact time and saw the beauty laid out before them, it was not the same view as mine.  Distance, position and timing make things like this an individualized experience.

  Recently, I was chastised for rising before the sun and venturing to the pier.  The person doing the reprimanding was appalled that this was a daily exploit and let me know that "You should not be on the pier that early.  Stay in bed and get rest."  Why?  Why would I want to laze around and miss the one time of day that is without annoying people.  Lately, I am finding that my days are far better without others.  I am more productive, more at peace and much happier overall.  Before anyone claims that I am antisocial, (which may surely become the case in the near future), let me just say that I am finding peace with my surroundings and that peace does not currently include people.  I definitely need a break from the snarkiness, the greediness, the holier-than-thou attitudes and the rest of the drama that others thrive on.  I really do think I would make a great hermitess.

A Towhee Sort of Morn

  It is no secret that my favorite time to hike is just before dawn.  Things are different then.  It is quiet except for the sounds of critters waking from a night's sleep.  It is peaceful as people have not yet begun to mar the day with their insensitivity, squabbles and unreasonable noise.  It a time uninterrupted by the hustle and bustle of the day.  It is my time.  In fact, it is about the only time that I can truly claim as my own because, before dawn, everyone else is still asleep and the old dog has gone back to his warm bed.  I guess I am the only crazy one on the Bayou.

  This morning as I eased my way down to the pier, a slight north wind was chilling me to the bone.  This would be a short hike since I forgot to don the heavy jacket.  Still, I needed the serenity of the early morn so I proceeded.  Just as I neared the pier, something rustled in the palmetto clump.  It sounded far to small to be a coon or rabbit so I thought perhaps the rice rats were scurrying to find their warm nests after a night out scavenging.  Nope.  Several small birds hopped out of the clump and sort skipped to the pier.  Ahhh, the towhees!

  The sight of these little birds never fails to thrill me.  They are perhaps the busiest birds to ever call the Bayou home.  These tiny birds are seldom seen since they prefer to scratch about in thickets.  This pair nested in the palmetto clump this past summer.  I knew they were there but with their excellent nest building and habit of hiding that nest, I was never able to see the little ones.  Since they are still hanging about the same bunch of palmettos, perhaps they plan on nesting there again.  Towhee Watch will go into full force this spring!  I love these little birds!

Seeking Solitude

  Solitude is a weird thing.  It is often confused with loneliness but, in reality, it is far different.  While the two seem similar due to the fact that in both, one is alone, the likeness ends there.  Loneliness is almost an intense sadness marked by the feeling of isolation. It can be stressful and negative.  Oftentimes, loneliness can feel like a harsh punishment. Solitude, on the other hand, is just being by oneself and can actually be a positive state.  During solitude, one can find an inner peace, creativity and replenishment.  One can be alone in the world, yet, be at peace with that world.  

  I ponder these things often as I spend a lot of time by myself.  I prefer it that way.  Others seem to think that life is not fulfilling unless days are jammed full of people and activities.  It is just the opposite. Those are the stress-inducing times.  Finding a peace with one's surroundings is the most fulfilling state of mind.

  As strange as it may seem, a good, heavy fog can make the world feel so far away.  `There are times on the Bayou that the fog is so thick that I feel cut off from the entire world. This solitude is refreshing.  There are no demands from the busy, outside world.  The solitude refreshes me and allows me to regain my perspective on life.  Loneliness is destructive....Solitude is replenishing.

Oh, So Lonesome

  Once the morning dew had dried, I decided that I had enough of this inside stuff.  I was feeling some better and thought that a bit of fresh air might be in order.  I grabbed the camera and headed down to the pier.  It was calm and quiet as I eased down the planking.  For some reason the quietness seemed to echo across the water...if that makes any sense whatsoever.  Just as I reached the marsh edge a sudden blast of sound startled me!  I had thought I was quite alone in this trek but I soon discovered that another being was not too far from me!  

  A lone Canadian Goose let out the loudest honk I had ever heard!  I supposed my presence was a much of a surprise to him as his was to me.  He was just far more vocal than I was.  The goose swam out from the shore a bit and honked again.  About every ten minutes or so, the bird would stretch its fine neck skyward and call.  Poor thing...nothing was answering its call.  No other geese returned its plaintive cries. Hmmm?  Had this poor soul lost its mate in some tragic accident?  Or was it merely calling to gather friends for that long trek back northward. Either way, I got the idea that the bird was lonesome...oh, so lonesome.

  I stayed a short while on the pier and then ventured back to the Little Bayou House.  No use in trying to understand geese language as there was not a lot I could do to help my poor friend.  Inside, I could hear his calls for the next hour and then silence once again fell upon the Bayou. Perhaps all ended well for the goose.  I hope.