Bayou Tranquility

   Sometimes when I view the photographs of the day's happenings, they bring back vivid memories of other times.  This morning, the rising sun streamed through the pines on the opposite shore casting shadows on the water.  Several years ago, I took almost the same photograph...then, last year, the image was nigh on identical.  The only difference is the grove of trees is getting vastly thinner with all the "progress" on new houses.  No one seems to understand that we actually NEED trees but, what they do across the way is none of my business, I suppose.  So, I turn a blind eye to the ruination of the woods and try to find a positive side of it.  This is a fault of mine.  Let others fret over what is being done since I am old and possibly won't have to deal with the outcome.  They can deal with their own mess. 

  I do not turn a blind eye to everything, however.  I am one of those weird people that just looks at things a bit differently.  I figure there is beauty in all things if we only search for it...hence, the photograph of shadows on the water.  Life is too short to go around viewing ugliness.  That brings forth only despair.  It is far better to seek out beauty and fill the spirit with tranquility.  In this old, angry world, look for serenity and happiness.  Find your peace wherever you can.  The Bayou is where I find mine.

Shade is Good

   Here it is midsummer and the whole country is feeling it.  The weather is no different here.  The heat and humidity make the day almost stifling.  With all this comes the never-ending round of complaints from the very same people who were complaining about the cold six months ago. Pop always said that you cannot change the weather by complaining.  So...why bother?  I figure it is better to just keep busy so I do not dwell on the uncomfortableness of the day...or night. There is no use in letting tempers flare just because of the heat.

  Today. just as the past three days, I cut grass.  That was my way of "beating the heat".  Pushing a lawnmower or swinging the trimmer is indeed hot work but I figure that I may as well have something to show for all that sweat.  At least, the yard looks nice. Cutting grass also gives me time to ponder things.  With an engine running, you cannot talk with others so you have to pull thoughts from the dusty corners of your mind.  Ponderance of the Day?  Why do people cut down all the trees?  To my way of thinking, a yard just looks better with dozens of trees...or in our case...hundreds.  Those trees provide shade and that shade is cooling.  It has been proven that places with lots of trees can be 20 to 40 degrees cooler than those without.  Perhaps we would all be better off by planting trees instead of cutting them.  Be cool! Plant a tree!  Sit in the shade!  Be happy. 

Rude Awakening

  This morning, I headed to the pier with a mug of steaming coffee and the camera.  The sun had not made its appearance yet so it was still quite dark.  The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of a large owl on the opposite side of the Bayou and the quiet sloshing of an otter catching little mullet.  This was the perfect time to prepare for the day ahead.  Silence and solitude...the perfect combination for a bit of meditation.  It did not hurt any to have the enthralling view of the ever-changing horizon.  Dawn...the time just before the sun rises.  Dawn...my favorite time.

  About that time, I began to notice that the eastern side sure is becoming devoid of trees.  This used to be a peninsula that jotted out from shore and curved around almost touching the opposite shore on the south.  Then a few hurricanes came and hit at the right spot to carve a cut clean through making the outer portion an island.  No problem.  There were still plenty of trees to keep the place "grounded".  It stood that way for many, many years but "progress" happens and houses started being built.  Well, the people did not want trees obviously so the thinning began and now there are only about a fourth as many, if that.  What used to be a lovely, thickly wooded wildlife habitat has now become an ugly, sparsely treed human habitat.  Sorry but I call it like it is.  It saddens me.  My goodness!  Build your houses but leave the trees! I guess they do not realize that once the trees are gone, the land will be gone, too.  Hurricanes have a way of eroding shores rather quickly.  Those tree roots are what holds the place together.  My lovely morn had turned to a dismal realization of how life is changing and not for the better.  My critter friends are being run out of their homes on all sides of me.  The hideous head of progress is rising.

  

Thankful of the rain!

  Folks, when it is dry, don't burn.  It only takes a wee bit of commonsense to understand that fires have a way of spreading during dry weather.  Let one spark lift up into the wind and devastation can be the result.  Just don't.  If there is a burn ban issued, don't even use that cute little outdoor fireplace.  Your entertainment can leave folks homeless or even cause death.  Just don't.  If the leaves crunch underfoot, don't burn trash (even in a container.)  Your yard cleanup could result in hundreds of acres of forest lost due to wildfires and thousands of animals horribly killed.  Just don't.  One tossed cigarette, one small fireworks (bottle rocket), one careless act...puts firemen in extreme danger.  Just don't.

  This past weekend, a fire raged through the woods not far from us.  Scuttlebutt has it that someone decided to burn leaves even though a burn ban was in effect.  Acre upon acre scorched as the fire went crazy with the high winds.  Flames shot nigh on seventy feet into the air.  Homes, churches and businesses were threatened to be caught up in those flames but, thanks to the brave firefighters, were saved.  It was a careless act that should never have occurred.

  Last night, it rained.  This rain was a blessing, not only for the exhausted firefighters that were still watching "hot spots" but to all of us who have wooded areas.  Watching the videos of the fire just to the west of us, caused an uneasiness to settle in as it could very well have been here.  When I heard the first raindrops pelting the rooftop, I said a prayer of thanks and know full well that prayer was being repeated the Coast over.   I have always been thankful for the rain but, in times like this, it has never been more beautiful. 

Too Busy Looking At The Scenery

    There is a idiom that one "cannot see the forest for the trees" which refers to spending far too much time paying attention to the details that you cannot see the overall picture.  It really has nothing to do with trees or forests or much of anything to do with Mother Nature in general but is rather to point out a flaw found in a lot of us.  We become far to focused on things...maybe even to the point of being nitpicky.  It is those pesky details that get in the way of our happiness.  Then, there are those that are just the opposite.  They brush off details as not important.  If the whole picture is good, why bother with the little things?  They have a way of twisting things to where the trees (details) are not important.  In my case, I seem to vacillate between the two ideas.  At times, a good bit of effort is spent delving into the finest detail while during other times, I just view things as one big grand world and let it go at that.

  A while back, the morning sunrise took my breath away.  The view was to perfection and I could do nothing but sit in awe of the handiwork of the Master Artist.  It never occurred to me to do anything but stare ahead at what was being laid out before me.  After photographing the sunrise (as I inevitably do), I left the pier feeling as if this wondrous sight had been created just for me.  My day had been started magnificently!  What more could one ask?  Then, I checked my pictures and found that I had totally missed an equally impressive event by not seeing the details that made up the overall spectacle that I had witnessed.  There was one detail that I had overlooked.

  Between that big, ole ball of a sun and the pier, there not only stands the gazebo and bridge of a nearby neighborhood, there are the ever-present power lines.  Not that any of those are impressive but the hundreds upon hundreds of birds that had roosted on the lines overnight were pretty mind-boggling.  Stretched as far as the scene would allow, nigh on a thousand birds were on the lines. The birds had gone completely unnoticed as I looked at the big picture.  How could I miss nigh on a thousand birds?  Goodness!  It took enlarging the photograph on my computer before I could grasp how many were actually there.  (Yep, I counted. 922 were in one photo!  That is a lot of birds to miss!)  The cropped photo below shows almost just a small portion of the birds as the lines stretched much further.

  Hopefully, the weather will permit me to take a jaunt to the pier at sunrise again tomorrow.  I want to see if the birds are still there or if they were just migrating through the area.  Oh, how grand it would be to have a camera lens strong enough to zoom in far enough to determine the type of bird that seek refuge on those power lines!  It does make me wonder if anyone in that neighborhood even noticed...or if they were like me and did see the "trees for the forest" or, in this case, did not see the birds for the sunrise.  Its all in the details, folks.  I need to pay attention!

The Shadowy Door

  Ever since I was a child, I had an interest in shadows.  For some reason, I was drawn toward what others found unsettling.  Whether it be the shadowy path in the woods or hand shadows cast on a blank wall, they appealed to me.  I wanted to know more about these fleeting bits of beauty.  What caused them?  How did the shapes change so rapidly?  Why were others so frightened of being in a shadowy area?  The allure did not fade as I aged.  In fact, I became more obsessed with the idea of shadows being cast for my enjoyment and for no other reason.  I will often stop whatever I am doing to watch shadows as they constantly weave a story as the sun moves across the sky.

  This afternoon, I flung open the french doors to let the warmth fill the living room.  Son has "winterized" our window screens and that included the two screen doors on the south side of the house.  A mirage of shadows astounded me.  Hundreds of leaf shadows were cast on the back side of the screen door panels.  This was odd because there are no trees nearby except for one on the far side of the doors.  These shadows were being cast from trees far from the house!  With a stiff northerly breeze shaking the treetops, the shadows danced across the screen doors with wild abandon.  What a beautiful sight to behold!

  Shadows are often used in reference to an ominous presence.  Some feel that shadows are the harbingers of something evil due to the fact that they are the absence of light.  To me, the shadow pictures bring peace.  There is nothing more calming than watching the ever-changing ballet of darkness and light.  It can be mesemerizing! Yeah...probably just me.

Shumac...Sumac...It does not matter. You still itch.

  Growing up on the farm, Pop used to warn us of plants that were "not so nice".  Things like poison ivy, poison oak and "shumac".  Yep. Shumac.  All of my life, I called the small bush with a bad attitude, a shumac tree.  A few years back, I found that it is actually a sumac tree...not a shumac tree.  I pondered why Pop never took the time nor effort to correct himself.  Well, it turns out that he had "hand-me-down" information.  Back in the day, commonsense things were handed down from generation to generation.  Since poison sumac can cause a major rash and, sometimes, respiratory problems, the wise words of "Don't mess with shumac!" slipped from a lot of mouths.  There is no telling how long the word had an added "h" making it "shoo mac" instead of "soo mac".  In fact, all of my uncles and aunts called the plant by the same name.  Perhaps it was more of a local pronunciation as I hear it from other "old-timers" (yes, I fit that category).

  This morning, I made a mental note to grab the snips some time this week and rid the path of a poison sumac bush. The thing sprouted up in a clump of palmettos near the edge of the walking trail.  Not that the bush bothers me as I seem not allergic to the oils but poor Mark starts scratching if he hears the name!  More than once, he has come in contact with the shrub while mowing and suffers for days on end with a horrible rash.  It is best I clip the thing before he gets back on that tractor!

  I have to admit that even though we do not get the beautiful fall colors like our neighbors to the north, we do have sumac trees that try their best.  Even after the leaves fall, the stems stay a lovely red for a number of days.  Couple that red with the unusual shape of the twigs and you know you have fall!  Sumac...fall...about as close as we get!  Just so you will know the oils that make the tree a hazard are even present in the winter.  Urushiol is not only found in the leaves but every part of the tree.  It is best to use care when coming in contact with this bad boy!

Doing What Comes Naturally!

  Back a few weeks ago, I trimmed some of the crape myrtle bushes in the front yard.  I am not sure if it is the "proper" time to cut them or not but I am following Pop's lead.  He took a chainsaw to his huge bushes that lined the front yard near the paved road.  It was usually after Thanksgiving that he literally gave the bushes a "buzz cut".  They were all neatly cut just about head height to Pop.   Even doing this, the bushes would bloom profusely the next summer.  I cut mine because they were ungainly and towering into the live oak tree.  After cutting the tall, spindly shoots, the bushes looked a lot better.

  Today as I was out walking the old dog (in the rain), I noticed that the bark was peeling on the crape myrtle trunks.  Large sheets of the bark were trying desperately to hold onto the tree trunks but the pelting rains were relentless and the bark was slipping closer and closer to the ground.  Now, had I not known better, I would have been alarmed at the sight of the peeling bark but I DID know better, so I was not worried.  Crape myrtle trees all have a tendency to lose their bark once they become a mature tree.  This is usually several years after planting.   The bark sloughs off and reveals the gorgeous wood beneath.  The now smooth trunk is revealed in all its glory.  The wood can be as light as a creamy beige to a deep, glossy red (and just about every color in between).  The wood can also be one color or be a mottled beauty.

  So...since I grew up watching Pop take care of so many plants on the farm, I knew that this peeling was a natural event and meant my crape myrtles were now mature and healthy.  There was no need to go into a panic, buy a bunch of needless sprays and douse the poor trees with chemicals.  They were doing what comes naturally,

Magical, Mystical Glade

  Way down behind the canebrake where the hillside slopes down to the back of the Bayou, there is a spot that never seems to fail in enchanting me.  Whether it be during the dim hours at dawn or the sun dappled time just before dusk, there is something almost magical about the spot.  Or, maybe it is just my imagination.  Could be but I still find the place fascinating.  It is here that you can hear the towhees rustling in the palmettos and the squirrels scolding you from the tall oaks.  From the midst of the canebrake, a rain crow (or yellow billed cuckoo) coos softly and the scritch, scritch, scritch of a pine warbler's sharp toes can be heard as the bird searches the pine bark for bugs.  There is a soft breeze blowing from the north and with it a scent of sweetspire wafts through the air.  The place is perfection making it easy to become lost in the wonderment.

  Son and I pushed our lawnmowers for nigh on four hours today as we trimmed up the place a bit.  Tomorrow will be much the same.  Four more hours and the mowing should be complete.  After cutting, I eased my way back down to the "secret" spot and sat on an old log enjoying the solitude. Sometimes, refreshment can come from no more than just listening, smelling and watching what is around you.  After a good day's work, it is satisfying to be able to communicate with Mother Nature.  I so appreciate the beauty around me. This magical, mystical glade is one of the spots where I can find serenity from the hubbub of the world.

Finding Easier Methods

  After the bushwhacking we gave the kumquat trees last year in search of an easier way of picking, I did not expect to harvest any fruit this year.  I figured that the poor trees would need a year of recuperation before producing but it seems as if the pruning did them good.  The trees are loaded with the tiny globes of gold.  Thinking I was going to have an off year of marmalade-making seems to have been a load of wishful thinking.  It did not happen.  So, now we are bound to be picking, chopping and seeding for the next few weeks.  

  The marmalade making is not a terrible chore if there was an easier way to get rid of the seeds.  It takes hours upon hours to chop and seed the tiny fruit.  Mark is home now so perhaps I can convince him to help me pick the kumquats and then Son and I can spend the weeks before Christmas making marmalade and dehydrated kumquat slices.  We always have good intention of seeding the entire lot but about halfway through the hundred pounds or so of marble-sized fruit, we tire.  Then we get creative.  Last year we found that if we slice the fruit and dehydrate them, the seeds become quite edible.  They turn sort of crispy making the entire slice a citrus delight!  I have used gobs of the dehydrated slices in teas mixed with fresh ginger root but we eat these by the handful and have had no ill-effects from the seeds.  Since we have eaten so many, we are down to our last quart jar of the dehydrated slices.  I guess it is time to make more....hehe....this has nothing at all to do with not wanting to spend hours seeding the things!  Dehydrated slices are great!

  It is good to know that the severe pruning we gave the trees last winter had no lasting dire effects on the health of the trees.  Mark and I were out this evening and discussed pruning the trees again.  It sure makes picking the tiny fruit easier if the limbs are within reach and I am not standing on a ladder for five hours!  Clippers shall be used again this year.

It is all in how you look at things

  I was out and about a bit late this evening when I noticed how the August heat was taking its toll on all living things.  Birds and squirrels are flocking to the birdbath, rabbits are hanging close to the shade trees and, speaking of trees, the trees are suffering.  Instead of the pretty reds, yellows and oranges of fall, this year we are going to be graced with brown.  Brown and crunchy will be the theme of treeland this year.  Unless, we get a bit of early cooling, things are not likely to change.  The trees seem sad which, in turn, makes me sad.  The Black Gum trees are laced with dead or dying leaves...brown and crunchy.

  Then again, it is all in how one looks at things.  While brown leaves may not be quite as attractive as the brightly-hued ones, the trees are still just as lovely...given the right light.  As the sun started to set in the west, it cast a golden glow on the eastern sky.  It was not the fiery red of some nights but more of a soft aura.  The same tree that I was inspecting earlier, once again, caught my attention.  Now, instead of being brown and sad-looking, the tree was in its glory!  Backlit by the golden sky, a silhouette stood out in perfect beauty.

  Sometimes in life, things or people are a lot like that tree.  We often cannot see the glorious sight of what is before us because the crustiness of wear and tear are hiding it.  It is times like this that we need to change our perspective.  With all of its ups and downs, life is good.  Look for beauty in all things.

Every Owl Needs a Tree and Daughters are Treasures!

  This evening, I was talking to my daughter about possible topics for tonight's writings.  I had been pondering this since with the torrential rains keeping me inside, I had no photographs.  The good thing about all of the rain is that I have been able to sort a good bit of the items given to me by Aunt Sylvia and Uncle Stanley. (They just recently completed a move to be with their daughter.)  While talking with my daughter, she mentioned that I should write about treasures.  Well, I have done that many times in the past.  Still, her words of wisdom rang clear.  "The most valued things are the ones that have the most sentimental meaning."  She is so correct.  Her statement made me proud.  I have long tried to instill in my kids the true meaning of riches. Wealth lies not in dollars but in love.  Don't get me wrong, those dollar bills come in mighty handy but there is a certain beauty in things or actions given purely out of love.  I have gifts from people that have no monetary value whatsoever but they are priceless.  I am rich far beyond comprehension.

  Last night I talked about how owls seem to be collecting at my house in all forms and from all sorts of people.  The owls make me happy.  Not that any are worth a red cent but they are some of those priceless items that fill the Little Bayou House.  It was then that I spied another of my recent treasures from Aunt Sylvia.  This is a wall plaque that features a tree..I am supposing it is a "Tree of Life".  This is crazy!  I just received a beautiful bed cloth decorated with a tree.  (My daughter and her husband bought this for my birthday!)  Add these trees to a sort of funky tree that I painted and I seem to have a fine start of homes for my owls!  You have to agree that owls and trees do, indeed, go well together!

  Trees, owls and other unique items fill the Little Bayou House.  All of these things are treasures merely because of the sentimental value but there is another treasure that fills my heart.  The fact that my daughter holds the merit of things given with love over the number on a price tag makes me one happy mom!  Elizabeth, indeed, is a treasure and she holds my heart forever!
 
 

The Great Loss

Some days there is just a lack of activity on the Bayou...at least on my side.  Down a ways from the Bayou but still near here, there is a flurry of work underway.   It makes me sad.  If there is one thing that I have learned to hate, it is the sound of tractors tearing up trees.  For the past five days from sun up to sun down, some folks are clearing a lot to build a house.  This lot just happens to be on the island part the of the opposite shore of my Bayou.  By island part, I mean the outer portion of the shoreline that has been cut by tides from the mainland.  A bridge was constructed to connect this island to the mainland.  But now, these folks are tearing out every tree on their lot.  The big machines are digging huge holes to extricate even the tap roots of trees that have stood through floods and hurricanes.  Some of these trees are probably over a hundred years old but not any more.  They are gone.  It seems such a shame to ruin a perfectly good tree for naught. Most were simply plowed over and not even salvaged as lumber.  This all makes my stomach churn.

It, also, must be a tad disturbing for the critters that have lived on the island for years.  The simple quiet is now replaced by disruptive ruckus like no other.  My side of the Bayou has become a safe haven for these critters. Since we own the entire Bayou, itself, at least that is some comfort.  The critters can have free reign of this small area. They know that I will not harm them and actually welcome each and every one.  Today, I noticed a Great Blue Heron fly out of the lot as soon as the tractors started roaring.  The bird flew to my yard and took refuge in a dead pine.  Here the bird stayed for the remainder of the day..staring at the place it used to call home.  Poor bird.  I so wish I could console it.  Other than merely allowing it to sit in peace, I did not know what to do.

It does make me wonder just how many other critters are being displaced by the work.  I am not opposed to people building houses but, for the life of me, I cannot see ripping out every tree that stands.  When Mark and I built the Little Bayou House, we were highly selective of the trees we removed.  We surveyed the property to find the area with the least trees of any size as our house site.  Of course, hurricanes and disease have taken many but still, I refuse to cut live trees.  (We did lose 69 trees to Hurricane Katrina.  I believe this was the hardest thing for me to accept.  My beloved trees were mangled!)  In a way, I am like that Heron.  I forlornly stare at the island and shudder with the thought of my critter friends losing their homes.