Advice from a cat!

   Today was supposed to be stormy with a big threat of tornadoes moving in by midmorning.  Admittedly, the sky did look ominous and, by all means, those oddly colored clouds should have been the harbinger of bad weather.  Here it is 7pm and, thankfully, no storms have occurred.  The overnight hours may tell a different story but, for the time being, all is quiet.  No rain...no wind...just heavy fog.

  The horizon did, indeed, appear to be trying to conjure up a good bit of turbulence.  In fact, even two hours after the time for the sun to rise, the hillside was still shrouded in darkness.  My walk was tinged with eeriness and even  Bat, the cat, was nervous.  At one point, he had strayed from our usual path only to come streaking back after spotting something amiss.  His fur was on end and he appeared to be twice his usual size!  Did I dare to continue through the darkness from whence he came?  He was sure having none of that idea and kept trying to lead me back to the Little Bayou House.  Using his good judgement, we made our way around the canebrake and headed back up the hillside.  Sometimes, it is wise to heed the advice of a good friend even if that friend is a cat.

A Friend With Sage Advice

  It seemed to be a fine day for making a new friend but, since I rarely leave the Bayou and since not many folks come to visit, there was a slim chance of doing so.  The morning passed with not a person in sight and all hopes of a bit of quality time being spent with anyone were quickly dying.  Well, if it had to be that way, so be it.  I value my alone time highly and should not complain if the day should include nary another soul.  That is the way of life for me.  I tend to be content with what is thrown my way.  Today would be no different.

  Along about noontime, the sun was warm, the skies were blue and a hike seemed to be in order.  Meandering about the Bayou fills me with wonder as there is never any lack of magical occurrences found there.  Usually, the hike begins and ends at the pier.  A huge loop takes me around the marsh and deep into the creek bed.  Under the dark canopy of trees, magic is sure to happen but, this time, that magic happened in a sunny spot directly down the hill from the front door.  As the path twisted and turned, a bright splotch of sunshine found my new friend.  Here was the very being that I was supposed to visit since dawn.  Coiled upon some brambles, a black racer was basking in the warmth.  It did not take but a moment for the realization that my "new friend" would not be human but was to be this snake.  Dropping to my knees, I settled in to let it know that all was well between the two of us.  The snake made no effort to move as we sat just inches apart.  At times, I would rest my hand on the very bramble where it was resting.  A mutual respect was being shared.  A good hour was spent doing nothing more than appreciating the magic of the Bayou with my new friend.

  According to some legends, snakes can represent many things such as transformation, creativity and healing.  The transformation of oneself into a better person seems to be a pretty good idea and a boost in creativity is always needed but it was the healing that was brought to mind with this encounter.  It was time to discard any "venom".   For the past few months, things around here have been sort of topsy-turvy so my brain was in dire need of a good cleansing.  It was high time to purge the negativity that had accumulated and rejuvenate the spirit that dwells inside.  I could do this...I can do this...I will do this.  Life is good only if we choose to make it that way.  There is no time to stand idle and let things slide.  

  The time spent with the snake was refreshing to the soul.  It felt as though the two of us bonded through just being.  Whether I see this friend again is not important.  The message that I gained is, however.  It is funny how critters can sometimes speak volumes more than humans who supposedly have the talent to talk.  Communication with most people is little more than inane prattle.  Communication of thoughts is the key.  The hour was well spent with a fine friend, indeed.

Advice on a foggy morn...

  The other morning, Son and I were meandering about the hillside when he made the remark "It is almost fog-time." He was referring to the time of year when fog seems to be a daily occurrence.  Little did he know (or maybe he did!), that the very next morning would find us in the midst of a pea-soup thick fog.  Everything was white!  We could not see the end of the pier, the house across the Bayou nor the tops of the tall pines. The fog-time had come.

  In a way, I like the foggy morns that linger into late afternoon.  I feel shut off from the world almost as if I am on my own little island.  The world may be buzzing around me but the thick layer of fog blocks out any evidence.  Even sounds are muted which adds to the mystique.  Usually, these days will find me on the end of the pier with my mug of morning coffee.

 This morning was much the same.  Mark and I headed to the pier but, instead of tarrying there, he hopped into the little skiff.  To him, these days are perfect fishing days!  I stayed on the pier just long enough to watch him disappear into the fog.  I did give him one bit of advice even though he was fully aware.  If fishing on one of these foggy days,  Pop always used to say "Watch the shoreline! You sure do not want to wind up in the channel."  The large tugboats traveling the channels cannot see a small skiff in time and the result could be devastating.  It is best to stay near the shore and not venture too far into the vision impairing fog.  Good advice from a wise man.

Just a Bit of Friendly Advice

  We are just about as far south as you can get in Mississippi.  There is just a bit of water and a wee strip of land between the Bayou and the Gulf of Mexico.  That said, being this far down makes things a mite muggy.  Summers in the Deep South are not kind to those from other parts.  "Its the humidity" is our standard reply to anyone complaining about the heat.  Sure, the temperatures can reach the triple digits but factor in that humidity. which on most days reaches at least 85% and, well, things are downright muggy.  The air begins to feel stifling and the skin a bit clammy.  Clothing becomes stuck to the body and shoes are horrid. Beads of moisture roll softly down the temples of even our most genteel Southern Belles who "lightly perspire" instead of sweat. 

  Here in Mississippi we have two seasons....summer and a short "not summer".  Forget those other things called winter, spring and fall...they do not exist except in our minds.  The weather in October is just an extension of July's heat.  That said, we have our own ways of dealing with such trifling nuisances as the normal heat waves that usually start in mid March and last until late November. We have found that it is best to work in the early morning hours and kick back and relax from, say, 10 am.on until the next morning.  There is just no use in inviting a heat stroke to come on!  But we do have a few other ways to help beat the heat.  The first thing to go is shoes.  Shoes are not necessary unless the sign says "No shoes...no service" then a pair of flipflops works.  As matter of fact, flipflops are not just for outings to the beach.  They are approved footwear for just about any event from formal weddings to family get-togethers. (A family get-together is like a mini family reunion only we don't wait for a year to pass.  We have these sometimes once a month, once a week or, hey, anytime someone drops by for a spell.) Most of us just go sans shoes at home which helps tremendously in the effort for keeping cool.  Then, there are front porches and back decks.  Both seem to serve as our summer living rooms.  These are both built with the weather in mind and are strategically placed to catch the optimal breeze.  A good breeze wafting across the water has the best cooling effect there is!  Add a hammock or some good old porch rockers and life is good.  Since there is a threat of becoming dehydrated, we drink a lot of water. Ice cold water from the wells cannot be beat! Of course,  sweet tea is required here in the south.  No respectful ice box is ever devoid of this staple.  Gallon jugs of the stuff are brewed and sweetened just in case "someone stops in".  Sometimes a sprig or two of fresh mint is stuck in the brew after it is cooled or sometimes a few fresh-picked blackberries make their way into the jug but never lemon!  If someone serves you tea with lemon, they are not originally from the Deep South! They are folks who hail from other parts but who now call this place home.  Lemon belongs in lemonade...not tea!  Which we also serve and which also has a myriad of fruit added.  Blackberries or peaches give our lemonade a distinctively sweeter taste than just adding sugar.  If the sweet tea or lemonade does not quench the thirst, a quick trip to the Sno-ball stands will always suffice.  For those who have never had a Sno-ball, you are missing out in one of life's great pleasures!  A Sno-ball  can be fully described as "Heaven in a Dixie Cup!"  A massive mound of shaved ice fills the cup and then a sickly sweet fruit flavored syrup is drizzled over it.  It is delightful even though (depending on the flavor) your mouth will take on a ghastly color.  Think blue lips and teeth from any of the berry flavored concoctions and a bright green smile from lime or mint.  Don't even think of the reds and purples!

  Once the above items are addressed, one can settle down with ease and enjoy life.  The only other requirement to not suffering the ever present oppressive heat is a gentle breeze laden with the sweet aroma of jasmine, gardenias and, of course, magnolias!  How much better can it get?  The Magnolia Grandiflora or Southern Magnolias are in full bloom right now.  Their sweet aroma fills the yard and takes one back to the days of grand garden parties of our great-grandparents.  The Bayou is surrounded by Magnolia Trees which actually is the source of the name by which the area goes.  "Magnolia Bend" is the part of the Biloxi Back Bay that branches off into the Bayou.  At one time the entire area was filled with these marvelous trees.  Sometimes reaching a good forty feet in height and at least that in girth, the trees held hundreds and hundreds of the twelve inch blooms.  These blooms sent their aroma wafting out on the Bay breezes to be enjoyed by anyone within a few miles.  I heard tell that at one point during Pop's early years, folks from miles around came to picnic under the Magnolias.  It was quite common for engagements to be made due to the sweet, romantic scents of the blooms.  The blooms were also quite desired as decorations for June weddings! (Imagine that!)  Pop told tales of being sent to gather dozens upon dozens of the blooms for such occasions. Each bloom had to be picked just at the optimal time so it would open just prior to the wedding ceremony.  And...the blooms had to be carefully tended so they would not be damaged.  A Magnolia bloom turns brown with the slightest abrasion so each had to be kept from being marred.  Those snow white blooms needed to stay snow white and not be tinged with coffee brown. 

  Now that I have covered all of the requirements for surviving in the Deep South during the summer, I suggest you kick off your shoes, lounge back in the hammock, sip your sweet tea, indulge in the lovely breeze laden heavily with the essence of Magnolias and wait for the end of November!  Summers are quite delightful when one knows just how to handle them!

Totally Out of Character!

  Long ago, I was told that it was ok to be a bit different than the rest of the world.  Back when they were in high school, one of my son's friends told me to "Embrace your weirdness...It is what we all like about you." Well, its good to know that I am weird!  (Thanks, Christopher!)  Anyway, it made me realize that I have to be who I am and not worry about being accepted by others.  This was a strange lesson for a kid to teach an adult but, hey, better late than never!  So, that said, I embraced my weirdness and became someone that I liked.  One of the things that this realization did for me was to open up a whole new freedom with my artwork.  If I wanted to paint something realistic....I could.  If I wanted to paint something "off the wall"....I could.  I was not aiming to please anyone but myself and the way I felt at the moment.  

  This evening, I sat down to do an owl painting for the upcoming clue hunt.  I seriously thought of going the realistic mode and grabbed a bunch of paints from the bin.  Ok!  This should be great!  Only with bad eyes and equally bad lighting, I had mistakenly picked purple paint instead of brown.  Well, there was only one thing to do!  Take a hike on the wild side!  So, I did.  My owl turned into something that I might have found in a color book from my toddler days.  Bright colors dominated, strange lines demanded attention, heavy brush strokes ruled.  The owl is weird but, in a strange way, quite sane.

  Every now and again, we all need to let loose and do something quite out of character.  It feels good.  We all have a bit of weirdness in us but most stifle it beyond recognition.  We are afraid to step out of the comfort zone and do something a bit wild.  My weirdness leads to some pretty interesting art pieces but I like it.  Thanks, Christopher!  Your advice holds true!

Words From a Wise Man

  It is funny how the rains come here on the Bayou.  I guess they are no more unusual than anywhere else except for the fact that I can see the rain long before it gets here.  This morning when I headed to the pier, the sky above was actually sort of bright...overcast but bright.  (If that makes any sense.)  Once on the pier, I had a clear view of the early morn's weather and it did not bode well for me!  I can see all the way across the Bay to Keesler Air Base...usually!  This morning, that view was well blocked by rain.  It felt a bit strange to have an entire city blocked from view.  The whole incident sort of reminded me of the old musical, "Brigadoon".  (Which, by the way, is one of my all time favorites!)  I knew that I should be seeing buildings but they just were not there.  The clouds and rains had engulfed the other side of the Bay making everything virtually invisible.

  I had good intentions of spending a good bit of my morning fishing for crab bait but that did not happen.  After about ten minutes, a wide black streak started inching its way across the water toward me.  Uh, oh! This was not good!  I knew what that darkness on the water was...rain! Heavy rain!  It was time to scoot back up that hill to the shelter that the Little Bayou House provides!  I turned just in time to notice two kayaks being paddled around the bend.  Not good...not good at all.

  Too many unseasoned boaters have a tendency to think they can "outrun" the weather.  This sometimes works but, more oft than not, the weather wins.  Thankfully, a small rainstorm does not wreak much havoc but lightning, hail, high winds and waterspouts can be quite devastating.  Pop always used to say "Keep an eye on the horizon and respect the weather.  It is much stronger and much faster than you are." Makes sense.  

  It was just a few weeks ago that a rogue storm whipped the Bay into a frenzy and several kayaks were overturned.  Luckily, my cousin, Michelle anticipated what was going to take place and called for help. The unfortunate folks took refuge on local piers and stayed there to be rescued.  Thank goodness that help arrived and all was well.  It could have been far worse.  

  So folks, listen to Pop..."Watch that weather!  Don't take chances.  Your life is worth much more."