Oh, the humidity!

  I have found it chilly for the past few days.  The temperatures  are not bad but the humidity is definitely trying to make us feel winter here.  We have had a good solid rain for two days now our next step of winter, fog, has arrived.  In the mornings, I cannot see the pier from the front steps.  It is almost as if the world ends about seventy-five feet in front of me.  A solid white wall blocks out anything beyond that point.  It is that fog that chills me to the bone.  At night, it creeps into the Little Bayou House like some thief ready to rob us blind but instead of taking anything, it leaves a certain stickiness on everything.  There is not much we can do about it other than deal with it.  Dehumidifiers cringe, shake and cower when meeting our type humidity.

 Early this morning, I took the old dog out for his morning stroll.  Since the pace has slowed to that of an elderly snail, I have plenty of time to photograph oddities along the way.  Once we neared the pier, a Great Blue Heron caught my eye.  Moe had come back to the pier expecting breakfast but none was proffered.  Not only did he go hungry, he had to hunker down against the fog. Poor Moe!  He looked downright miserable!

  Winter mornings complete with fog should be a boon to the herons.  The north wind exposes the mudflats and the fog shields the bird from being seen by its prey.  They can catch plenty of little mullet by just waiting.  This same fog does present its share of problems, however.  The drippy mess muffles all footsteps so larger predators can stalk the herons without a problem.  Coyotes and bobcats would love to dine upon a sizable bird like a heron.  

  Moe was either being lazy by staying on the pier or was being wary of his surroundings.  Either way, he was not catching any breakfast by sitting on the pier.  The old dog and I merely passed him by as we were ready to get out of the fog.  No handouts for the herons today.