Sorry, folks, but I am not ready to end that social distancing or self isolation thing just yet. No, I never feared for my life nor felt that I was going to get some dreaded illness. I just prefer to be alone and away from all of the drama being stirred up and spread around by "Oh, so wonderful people!" Sorry...not sorry. As far as I am concerned, the Bayou is still off-limits. Since I have had plenty of time to do soul-searching and reevaluating, I find I am much happier! This blog is enough social interacting for me. Perhaps I truly am becoming a hermitess...or I am truly just tired of peopling.
Today as I was out investigating what Tropical Storm Cristobal left behind, I had to laugh when I came across a "T". It is quite apparent that this was not some accident that the storm created but rather something that was made by human hands. Why? I have no idea other than perhaps someone was cleaning and did a bit of a balancing act. A cutoff chunk of wood was laid neatly across the top of a stump. Twined partially around it was some sort of aluminum strip. The whole thing made me think of a crude monument perhaps akin to stone balancing! What had I happened upon?
This "T" is in the middle of a small clearing on property next to ours. There is no mysterious tale behind it other than how much it reminds me of me. Here is a somewhat quirky item out in the middle of nowhere that is fully happy (as happy as a tree stump can be) being by itself. It just fit. So much so that I wish my "T" was on our property. Perhaps I should start erecting some bizarre monuments here and there just to confuse anyone traipsing around the place. It could be interesting!
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.
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!
