A few mornings ago, I awoke to find the room awash in a golden glow. That told me that the sunrise was to be spectacular. Even though, I had little emotional energy left to even think of sunrises, sunsets or anything else on the Bayou, instinct made me stumble out to the pier. Golden....beautiful golden moments...those are the times that life hands you when you least expect.
That morning, the waters of the Bay were pushed far from the shore by the north winds of overnight. The mudflats were busied by the raccoons and shorebirds foraging for breakfast but I was more interested in three little beings paddling in the shallows. The hoodies were back! Hooded mergansers hold a special place in my heart. They are not seen here except during the winter months and, even then, they are here for only few weeks. I try to enjoy them as much as possible while the opportunity lasts.
One of my early recollections of the hoodies involved my grandmother. She loved feeding all the birds even the waterfowl. Come wintertime, she would carefully put birdseed in the long, tray-like feeder under the south-facing window and then fill a pie tin with bread crumbs, corn and sometimes barley. Carefully, she would traipse down to the pier my granddad had built. The goodies would be scattered on the lower part of the lawn for the ducks to enjoy. If, Pop and Granddad were trying to do a little duck hunting near the mouth of the Bayou, she would bang that pie tin and give a call of "Here, duck, duck, duck!" Yep, those menfolk gave up the hunt rather quickly since they knew that "Hattie" was not approving of their antics! Plus, all of the ducks within earshot would flock to their free meal. Of course, the fish-eating mergansers never came to feast upon the grains but the banging on the tin would send them skittering across the water!
It is funny how a simple things like the hoodies' presence can bring back a flood of memories. Golden moments abound! Life is good.
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