Never Too Old

   I have lived in the same general area for my entire life.  The old farm place was just across the road from where the Little Bayou House stands now.  My entire life has seen me roaming the woods and swamps and interacting with the critters found therein.  If it was not befriending baby rabbits in the strawberry patch or playing with the fox kits in their den behind the old house, it was catching snakes in the pond and creeks or caring for baby squirrels that lost their mom.  Critters have always been an interesting part of my life.  As an adult, that interaction has not stopped.  More than once, a critter has become the center of my focus...whether to help it or to simply observe.  I figured that I had just about seen every creature in these parts but surprises happen.  It just proves that you are never too old to experience the newness of life all over again.

  Son has broken his toe..yep..toe which makes it very painful to walk.  By my orders, he is to lay low for a few days and let it heal.  Well, that is all good except that means I have to do his chores as well as my own.  This morning, I headed out to check the small skiff after the rain overnight.  I did not get very far because, as soon as I stepped out the door, I knew that something far more important was afoot!  I grabbed the camera and quietly padded down the footpath.  A stranger was on the pier!

  A group of Snowy Egrets had flown in to rest in the relative safety of the pier.  There, they could rest before feeding.  The whiteness of the egrets was broken by a blob of pink!  Why was there a pink "egret" on my pier?  I had an idea but it was time to investigate!  I edged my way halfway down the pier and was stunned to find that my "inkling" was correct.  A Roseate Spoonbill was mingling with the egrets!  Wow!  In all my years here, this was a first for me!  I had never had the honor of having one of these birds visit.  My camera was used nonstop to capture the moment!  I was purely mesmerized by the beauty of this large bird!   

  Things like this make me highly thankful that I had a childhood filled with outdoor adventures and that I was surrounded by adults that encouraged exploration and love of all things of connected with nature.  Here I am an old woman and still finding a thrill simply by spotting a newcomer to the Bayou.  Folks, never stop learning, exploring or researching.  There is so much to learn...so much to see.  

Rooftop Bat

   It always frets me when the "Neighborhood Watch Clan of the Critter World" sets up a clamor.  This means that something is amiss on the Bayou.  This neighborhood watch program consists of mainly blue jays in the beginning but then they are joined by just about every other bird in the county, so it seems.  The cacophony is almost deafening but usually that is a good thing because any predator hates to be noticed.  The ruckus, alone, can often be enough to deter a potential problem.  Usually...but not always.

  Early this morning, I heard the jays starting to call and soon a panic was set forth among all birds.  Since I was heading out to pick yet more figs, I decided to investigate just what was upsetting the birds.  Well, it seems that the whole center of attention was near the fig trees!  I pondered if a snake had crawled up under the trees.  That would be a bit iffy for me as the sun was just rising and a snake would be difficult to see among the shadows under the trees.  Standing still to get a better idea of just where the birds were focusing, it soon came apparent that the greenhouse roof was where the culprit was.  Hmmm?  I eased my way around to that side of the trees.  Yep!  There it was!

  Up on the rooftop, Bat, the Bayou Cat, was lounging about like everything was right with the world.  He was paying no attention to the thirty or so birds that were yelling at him.  In fact, I think the cat was sleeping!  I called to him..."Bat-Bat, what are you doing up there?"  He lazily rolled back his head and blinked as if to say "Woman!  Why are you disturbing my sleep?"  

  I suppose I should be appreciative of the cat being on the rooftop near the fig trees.  At least, the birds were in an uproar about his presence and were leaving the figs for me to pick!  Good cat!  In fact, I have noticed that lately under the fig trees, atop the greenhouse and in the vegetable garden are his choices of lounging areas.  I am all for it.  Bat makes a great watch-cat!

Hungry, Little Birds

   If the plight of the yaupons around the Bayou is any indication of the trees elsewhere, there are going to be some hungry, little birds come this winter.  Usually, you can depend on the wild yaupons to be heavy with berries come this time of year and the birds can depend on having a grand feast when the weather turns cold.  This year, however, the yaupon berries are scant with some shrubs having nary a fruit.  I found one small tree with berries out of the hundreds of trees on the property. The birds will have to look to other means for survival as that one tree will not suffice.

  While the yaupon berries are not fit for human consumption there are many birds that flock to the (usually) heavy laden trees.  One of my favorite times was spent watching an entire flock of cedar waxwings strip, not only the yaupons but the nadinas, as well.  Hundreds of the birds flew in, stripped the trees of berries then continued on their migration.  It was a sight to behold.  I guess this winter, the birds will have to be happy with birdseed that I put out for them.  Or...they will go hungry.  It may be a hard season for many critters due to the lack of berries but also due to the fact that almost every piece of property around us has been clear-cut.  The entire area is devoid of the trees that normally feed critters throughout the winter.  Besides the yaupons, oak trees, pine trees, pecan trees, holly trees and wild persimmon trees have been stripped from the ground.  Humans are pushing the critters out of their homes in record numbers.  It saddens me.  Poor, little critters.

Replacing Moe

     Last year, a Great Blue Heron came to the pier every time I was there.  The bird wanted handouts of fish so I obliged.  We watched as Moe grew from a juvenile into a gorgeous adult.  He and I became fast friends and he trusted me enough to gently take minnows from my hands.  He stayed for about a year before leaving for parts unknown.  I miss Moe.

  Now, a new bird has decided to come to the pier.  Lately, a Great Egret flies in to visit each time I am there.  I have not named this bird, yet, but I am quite sure if the visits continue a name shall be forthcoming.  The egret is still a bit skittish but is gradually making progress.  It knows that if I pick up the net, minnows shall be shared with it.  This morning, the bird insisted on staying even though Son was adding more nails to the pier planks in preparation for yet another storm.  You would think the banging would have frightened the bird but it seemed not to mind.  I find it a bit strange that the birds become so accustomed to us that they lose all fear.  I am sure they know that we mean them no harm but to literally become friends is remarkable.  

  While I would gladly welcome a visit from Moe, it only seems fitting that another bird has taken his place on the pier.  Every pier needs a resident bird!  Hopefully, this fine friend will weather the storm in good health and will continue to visit.  Life is good.

The Osprey Lands

   It is no secret that I watch the critters of the Bayou.  Their daily antics intrigue me.  Let any critter be in sight and I can sit for hours watching its every move.  I have often said that I like critters better than I do most people.  They avoid drama as much as I do and, to be totally honest, critters are a whole lot smarter than people.  They know how to survive and how to adjust their lives if the need arises.  People, on the other hand, whine.  So, I avoid people and mingle with the critters.

 

  Late this evening, I was trying to photograph an egret that was on my brother's pier.  The bird was preening with its wing outstretched in the most graceful manner.  Birds have to take extremely good care of their plumage as misplaced or damaged feathers can cause considerable trouble for the bird.  These feathers can disrupt the airflow when the bird is in flight or even cause heat loss during the colder months.  This evening, the egret was doing its best to keep its plumage in tiptop shape.  In the far distance an osprey was doing the same.  Behind the egret but on the far shore, an osprey landed in the top of a pine.  There it, too, preened.   

  As I watched these birds, another Osprey was coming in for a landing.  This was an aircraft that is sort of a weird mix of a helicopter and airplane.  At first, I had no idea what I was watching.  It was not until I saw it tilt up its blades before I realized what it was.  Then, when the Osprey got over the airstrip at the air base, it landed...straight down!  I was impressed by this aircraft!  It is pretty amazing and fully reminded me of the "transformer" toys that my boys used to play with back when they were kids.  Oh, the things I see while critter watching.  The Osprey has landed.

Brats will be brats

  If I do not get to the garden by ten minutes past sunrise, I get a rude scolding.  A pair of blackbirds start shrieking for me to come fill the feeders.  These are two of the most impatient birds to ever visit the gardens,  Most birds will politely call or even sing until their breakfast is served but these rascals literally shriek.  They will both perch themselves in the dead black gum tree, shriek at the top of the voices and then hop from limb to limb.  If I still do not come, the male will venture into the porch arbor and yell at the door.  That shriek is deafening under the canvas top and I think he realizes that it can be heard all the way to the kitchen!  Once I fill the feeder and toss a bit on the ground, this pair eats and then flies back out to the marsh.  

  The redwing blackbirds often hang purely in the marsh but this pair has gotten brave.  They spend a good bit of time at the feeders and will often stake it as their territory.  Then, no other birds are allowed to feed.  Beside being extremely rude, they are bossy!  How unlike the other blackbirds and the other birds, in general.  I am not sure why these are so rude but it has now become quite humorous for me and I have a tendency to even venture out without their breakfast from time to time.  Their reaction is one of disbelief!  I think they belong to this "me" generation...you know, the ones who think everything should be handed to them.  In the human world, these are the ones who never got their butt beat because parents were afraid to be parents. Perhaps the same thing happened in the avian world.  Brats will be brats.

Hiding The Birds!

  Since my days are limited to the small gardens, I have become quite acquainted with the few critters that visit daily.  In the recreated "Puddle Pond", a few tiny frogs are happy to provide chirps, six fat squirrels raid the bird feeder and dozens of birds come to visit.  I consider all of them to be my friends and they do not seem to mind my prattle.  They sit and stare while I hold conversations with them pretending they can answer.  (Yes, life with limits is boring but, at least, it is still life! Life is good.)

  It is not often that a large predator makes its way into the small gardens.  Most are quite dubious about the fences.  Birds of prey, however, are not bound by fences.  One visited.  It broke my heart.  On an early morning stroll in the east side of the small gardens, I noticed something white fluttering in the soft breeze.  On closer inspection, that "something white" turned out to be a small feather.  Then, I stumbled upon a mound of feathers.  These belonged at one time to a mourning dove.  My heart was breaking as I knew that the pair had just fledged their two little ones.  The family of four was now down to three.  One of the adults fell prey to a hawk.

  Doves have a funny (and useless) defense when threatened by a predator.  The birds, being mostly ground feeders, simply squat in place.  They do not seek shelter among the brambles as the cardinals do nor do they put up a collective fight like the blue jays.  They sit. They simply sit.  They are literally "sitting doves"...a play on the old saying "sitting ducks".  This sitting makes them prime targets for hawks.   A hawk can swoop down, grab the dove and never miss a wing beat.  It is that easy for them. Hawks pluck the feathers of a captured songbird before eating it.

  With the realization that I was fattening the songbirds for a hawk's dining pleasure, I have amended my ways.  Instead of overfilling the feeder, I now put enough there to satisfy the squirrels but sprinkle lots of seeds under the benches, large leafed plants and vine arbors.  Small birds can easily scavenge the brambles but a hawk's wings cannot navigate there.  The birds are safer there.  My friends sometimes need a bit of protection and I am happy to provide it for them.

Sure Makes It Hard To Work

  As usual, my day was spent in the garden.  First on the agenda was to water the new tomato plants.  Well, that led into watering everything which is at least an hour's worth of a chore.  No problem.  I enjoy being in the garden and since I had no other plans for the day, I may as well play.  As I was dragging the heavy, black hose to the back of the greenhouse to water the zinnias, my work ended.  I could go no further.  In fact, I had to sit in the wicker chair and wait a bit.  It was not that I was exhausted nor that my desire to water the plants had waned but rather that a couple of critters waylaid my good intentions.  Critters have a way of doing that.

  Just as I was about to give it a good tug, a small bird hopped up on the hose!  The pair of Eastern Towhees had been busy in the gardens along with me.  They were searching for breakfast and paid no heed to my presence.  I did not mind sharing the space with them but I cannot with a good heart jerk a hose out from under a tiny bird!  So I waited.  And waited.  Finally, the male Towhee hopped off a few feet and I was good to go!  Grabbing the hose, I almost gave a big tug.  Wait!! No!  Now the female decided to hop on the hose!  What is the deal??  Why were the birds so determined to sit on the hose?  

  It took another few moments before the female left the coils of the hose and I was free to go back to work.  The watering was completed without further ado but replacing the hose was an ordeal in itself as the birds refused to move.  In fact, it is now nighttime and the hose is still stretched across the gardens.  I suppose tomorrow morning will find me working in reverse.  Never have I seen such tame Towhees!  Silly birds!

Wearing the Finest!

  After working all day yesterday, Son and I were picking up our tools when, suddenly, I saw a flock of birds!  Son always tells me that I have a very short attention span and that I am easily amused so it was no small wonder that I had to hustle down to the pier to investigate.  I figured that these had to be egrets since they were white but I had never seen so many flock together!  Easing my way down the board path, I was careful not to flush the birds from their spot.  I wanted to get past the groundsel bushes so a clear photograph could be taken.  I needn't have fretted.  This flock of thirty or so birds (half on the pier, half in the marsh) was not going anywhere!  They were intent on resting a bit.  I was able to get within about forty feet from the flock.  There, I sat in awe.  The birds were gorgeous!  Their gleaming white feathers were offset by pinkish gold crowns, chest and back feathers!  Oh, my!

  When I saw the colors, it was immediately evident that these were visitors to the Bayou.  Once a year, flocks of Cattle Egrets fly in just to let me admire their breeding plumage! (At least, I figure that is why they come!...Oh, yeah. Son says I have a very vivid imagination, too, but we won't go there, now will we?)  There were twenty-nine Cattle Egrets and one Snowy Egret in this flock.  Wait! What?  Why was that Snowy in there??  

  The birds allowed me to visit without worry.  Then, suddenly, half of them hopped down into the marsh and started searching for fiddler crabs or insects (I could not decide which).  As I watched the last few hopped one by one to join the others.  They made no effort to go any further than just off the pier and did not seem to mind that I shifted positions occasionally to swipe away mosquitoes and gnats.  

  The flock of Cattle Egrets stayed overnight on the pier then headed off into the back of the Bayou.  I suppose the stormy weather urged them on their way as it was not long before the pier was underwater and the winds were pounding the Bayou.  I am thankful for the time I got to spend watching the birds and viewing their incredible beauty.  If I ever again hear anyone say "Oh, those are JUST Cattle Egrets.", I will likely whip out the photos and prove to them that the birds are stunningly beautiful.  I am glad they graced the Bayou with their presence even though it was a short-lived visit.  See you next year, Pretty Birds!  I look forward to seeing you dressed in your Easter finery!

His Compass Is Broken

  It is not unusual to see the common loons around the Bay and Bayou during the winter months but by early spring they make their way back up north to spend their summers.  There, they do all sorts of "loony" (and I mean that as a bird way not a crazy way) things like finding a mate, nesting and raising their young.  In fact, I cannot remember ever seeing one around here after the first of April until recently.  Once that warm weather sets in, they make haste in their migration.  

  Last year, however, one very young loon was injured and opted to stay on the Bayou a bit longer.  The bird rested, fed and healed but since there were no other loons around, its migration was put on hold for the entire summer.  Its plaintive wails could be heard ringing out in the night in hopes that at least one other loon was in the area.  Nary a return call could be heard.  So the bird spent the summer in "solitary confinement" of the Bayou.  When the weather started to chill a bit, I thought sure other loons would migrate here and our local bird could find its family.  It was saddening to know that the other loons never made it to the Bayou at all this year.  Our winter was far too warm, I suppose, and the birds never came this far south.  The resident loon spends its time wailing and wailing.   "I am here.  Where are you?"  Wait...wait...no answer.  Silence.

  While it is still early in the spring, it does not appear that the bird is going to migrate.  It is happily scooping up minnows and little mullet.  Unless, by some odd chance, other loons fly over, the bird will most likely spend yet another summer here.  Obviously, it has no idea where "home" is other than here.  While I am good with the bird hanging around, it has to be extremely lonely for my friend.  Perhaps his "inner compass" is broken!  Poor, sweet bird!  Here's to hoping the bird heads north!

Just In Time To Say Goodbye

  The morning was met with a threatening rainstorm on the horizon so the pier visit was cut short.  Between the drizzly rain and the barrage of gnats, time spent on the water was short.  However, in the few minutes allowed, I found a few bayou friends had gathered nearby.  A dozen or so cormorants had settled in for the night and were just starting their morning feed fest.  Most of these were juveniles that still had their grayish-white breasts.  The birds were doing their usual "heavy swimming" with just their necks and very little of their backs above water. 

  Cormorants do not have feathers that repel water like ducks do.  Their feathers often become waterlogged causing them to seek refuge on pier posts.   There, they spread the wings and stand letting the wind and sun dry their bodies.  This heavy swimming does allow the birds to do well with catching their meals.  It has been said that having heavier bodies makes their diving easier.  It does not, however, make taking flight easier.  The birds have to do an awful lot of "water-walking" and wing-flapping to get airborne.  

  As I sat swatting gnats, I thought of how I am going to miss my friends. It is time for them leave the area. They visit here for the winter then head north to breed.  Once all of the migrating waterfowl leave, the Bayou seems a tad lonely.  At least, then, the gators and cottonmouths will be back to add a smidgen of entertainment.  There is never a boring day when you can find amusement in just about anything.  I do.

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!

Teeny, Tiny Birds!

  For the past few years, we have been battling termites.  They came in with Hurricane Katrina so many years ago and decided that since they liked the Coast so much, they would stay.  We are not the only ones facing these little demons.  A good many homeowners have been fighting the same battle as us.  These "homeowners" are not just human.  A lot of my animal friends have had to deal with the same menace.  Some have benefited as they feast on the insects when there are huge swarms.  Lizards, frogs, birds, other insects all can be found having a hearty meal during the swarms.  But a lot of animals have lost homes to the wood-munchers.  Not only have my birdhouses been demolished but trees (dead and LIVE!) have been totally destroyed by the insects.  Recently, all of the arbors and the garden fence had to be removed.  Yep, termites in all of the posts.  I was heartbroken but it was a necessary chore to tear down the whole lot.  Then, I realized that the wooden bird feeders had also been attacked.  NOTHING is sacred!  Egad!  To remedy that situation I merely started putting birdseed on a small outdoor table near the garden benches.  The birds seemed to be accepting so now I have a clear (and near!) view of the birds.  This afternoon after the feeder (uh..table) was filled, I sat down to watch my friends enjoy their dinner.  A good number of birds came but none were so sure that I would not hurt them as the Tufted Titmice who would literally wait on the arm of the bench for their turn to visit the seedy buffet.  

  Titmice are some of the tiniest birds on the Bayou yet they are some of the bravest.  Weighing around a half of ounce and being about five inches in length, you could easily hold one in the palm of your hand.  They are calm little birds but are feisty if the need arises. I have seen them attack a four foot long rat snake raiding their nest and have watched as they would chase squirrels from their food cache.  Male squirrels are notoriously lazy and would prefer to eat someone else's stored food that go find their own.  Titmice are equally noted as "preppers".  They work hard to store food for lean times.  Carrying one seed at a time, they will stash the food in crevices of trees.  Each seed is carefully hulled before it is put in their "larder".  

  Titmice nest in holes in trees or bird houses, if available.  They do not create the tree holes but use naturally formed ones or will use a vacant woodpecker hole.  Once they choose a nesting site, the birds will carry in twigs until a snug home is made.  Then, the nest is lined with hair!  Animal hair or even strands of human hair can be found inside the nest.  These tiny birds will go so far as to pluck hair from pets!  When Ms. Ezzy, the Bayou Dog, was alive, several times I witnessed the titmice land on her back as she was napping outside.  Ezzy was a kind soul that loved all animals so she did not mind the titmice "grooming" her loose hair.  Back and forth between dog and the small bird house on the rose arbor, the birds would go.  They would busy themselves gathering their nest-lining as long as the old dog was sleeping.  

  If you are one who fills the bird feeders in your yard, take a seat nearby and get to know your outdoor friends.  It won't take long before the birds and squirrels will know that you can be trusted.  They will all come to the feeders to get their daily meal.  While doing that, they will definitely entertain you with their antics!

The Loving Couple

  For any of you going through life's trials, sometimes it pays to take a look outside.  As Pop used to say, "People could learn a lot from nature if they would only take the time to really study what is going on around them."  Pop was a smart man.  Nature does give life lessons for free on a daily basis.  All that is required is that you show up for class and pay attention.  You won't be tested, you won't be graded and you will not get a "degree" but I guarantee that you will learn a lot.  Personally, I find that a solution of how to handle most "problems" can be handed to me simply by taking a stroll around the hillside.  That "Bayou Magic" always has an answer.

  This morning's sunrise was completely blocked by fog once again.  While most folks fuss about the weather, I find fog to be to my liking.  Of course, if I had to drive in it, my attitude would surely change to where I do NOT like it.  But, I don't so I do...nuff said.  The morning meanderings took me through woods to the swamp.  Even though, I could hear my bird friends, nary a one could be seen through the drippiness of the fog.  It took me to come back between the grape arbor and the greenhouse before any critters consented to be seen.  A pair of mourning doves sat in the black gum tree.  Both were huddled against the pea-soup thick fog.  The male watched my every move while she preened.  He was guarding his ladylove as she flicked droplets of water from her feathers. Their closeness warmed the heart and blocked out the chill that was starting to envelop me.  This is how each loving couple should be.  The male bird is protective of his ladylove and she is steadfast in her devotion to him.  

  Most mourning doves mate for life.  They both make the (weak and wobbly) nest, both brood the eggs and both feed the hatchlings.  The chicks are called squabs and are fed "pigeon's milk" or "crop milk".  Both parents are capable of producing this as it is created in the crop from the digested food of the parents. Even though it is called "milk", it more resembles yellowish cottage cheese. Mourning doves are the epitome of how a family should be.  They start as a loving couple, raise their broods and remain a loving couple!  Folks, if there is any question, this is how it should be!

The Feast Of The Mistletoe

  Mother Nature has thrown the Bayou plants for a loop.  For the past few years, we have had no winter, to speak of, so plants have no idea when to grow, when to blossom or when to produce.  The flora around here just sort of haphazardly throws blossoms out there in hopes that the weather is kind.  Some plants just give up hopes of having a normal life and don't produce at all since they have no idea when to do so.  The yaupon and other hollies did not produce more than a handful of berries which is sort of sad for the fauna of the area.  Come on, flora, get your act together!  Fauna depends on you!

  The lack of yaupon and other berries presented a problem for a flock of birds today.   While Son and I were out working on yard projects, I noticed forty or fifty birds fly into the yard.  Ahh, the cedar waxwings were making their annual appearance on the Bayou.  They come in droves to feast upon the many berries but, this year, they found scarce pickings.  After inspecting the area, the birds finally chose to fly to the tiptops of the white oaks.  There, among the bare limbs, the birds found their sustanence.  Mistletoe fills the tops of these trees and, obviously, this was a good bearing year for those plants.  The cedar waxwings feasted upon the pearly white mistletoe berries.

  Within the next twenty minutes, two more flocks came to the Bayou and were in search of food.  They promptly got word that there was nothing but the mistletoe berries so they, too, flew to the tops of the mistletoe laden oak trees.  The soft tweets were our music for the day!  After two or three hours, the birds moved northward.  They obviously believe spring is on its way and they need to head back home to nest.  Goodbye until next year, sweet friends.  Hopefully, we will have more to offer then.

Morning Wakeup Call

  Even though I awake before dawn, I now have my own personal alarm clock!  Each and every morning for the past month, a beautiful male Northern Cardinal worms his way out of the jasmine vine where he and Mrs. Cardinal spend the cool nights and sits upon the fence.  He begins a sort of high-pitched squeaking call which echoes throughout the room even though he is a good twenty feet from the window.  Since I know he will be calling, it has become my habit to sit nearby just to hear him.  This is my wake up call!  In fact, I do believe he fully has that in mind.

  Since mid-December, it has been my habit to step outside and put a bit of birdseed out for my fine feathered friends.  I figure food may be getting a tad scarce so giving a helping hand seems to be in order.  This was always done as I headed out the door for my morning hike about the place.  The birds have gotten accustomed to having breakfast served just a few feet from their nightly roosting spot  and now fret if I am a bit late.  

  I have been putting the seeds directly on a low table but that is all about to change.  This morning, there was a feral cat hiding just a few feet away under the front steps.  That rascal was eyeing up my birds!  I shooed it away but it kept returning.  I had no choice but to sit outside in the icy north wind to keep it at bay. Son promised he would build a bird feeder and put it up out of the cat's reach.  Perhaps my sweet friends will be safe, then.  

Just Doing A Bit Of Running

  My hike this afternoon took me well back into the woods near the creek bed.  I had hopes of venturing across the creek to a spot where the spider lilies grow.  I figured that since most snakes would be sluggish, it would be a good time to dig up a few bulbs for the garden.  My plan did not include the copious amount of rain that was just dumped on the area.  There was no getting near the creek much less crossing it.  The low area was a sloppy mess!  So much for good intentions!  That said, I was diverted to (of all places) the pier.  Being as that is my peaceful spot, it only seemed natural to be there.

  While there, I noticed large birds swimming in the distance.  Three Double-crested Cormorants were busy diving beneath the water.  Just as I thought it was a good time to get photos, the birds opted to vacate the area!  I was left with very few photographs and no birds.

  Double-crested Cormorants are funny birds.  It seems that they spend more time under water than on the surface.  They can make long dives in search of food.  In fact, they would rather dive than fly to get away from a threat.  Watching the birds take flight from the water is sort of like watching a comedy show.  They literally "run" on the water's surface to take off in flight.  I happened to catch that "running" in one photograph before the birds went out of range.

White Ibises Visit The Bayou!

  Today saw the Bayou being pounded by more storms.  Winds were gusting pretty stiffly and at times the rains were torrential.   All of this storming made for high tides and slippery slopes but, by late afternoon, the skies cleared enough for Mark and I to take a quick walk about the place.  Of course, the first place we always go to is the pier.  It was on the way back toward the shore end that Mark pointed out a large flock of birds overhead.  Looking up, my first thought was egrets but it confused me to see so many flocking together.  Then, I caught a glimpse of the bills of the birds.  Ibises!  Those are ibises!  I was not quick enough to get more than one pretty shabby photograph of the birds before they headed west.  While that was disappointing, the fact that we actually saw this many of the birds made my day.

  The White Ibis is usually found more around fresh water lakes and ponds than salt or brackish water.  There, it will visit the mudflats in search of mud worms, crustaceans and insects.  The ibis has a long, curved bill that it uses to probe the soft mud.  When it senses something, the bill snaps shut and the prey is pulled from the mud.  If it is too muddy, the bird will then go to clear water to wash its supper.  It will also declaw crabs and crawfish and crush their shells before eating them.  

  It has been a long time since I have seen any ibises.  My aunt (actually my mom's cousin) was an avid birder and she often let me tag along on her excursions.  We would search for any bird and Fairie Lyn would quickly and accurately identify it for me.  I learned a lot about birds from this lady!  In her later years, she depended on me to take her birding...which I gladly did as often as I could.  We had fun!  I remember how excited she was on one outing when we came upon dozens of the White Ibises.  She started pointing out the identifying factors of the birds and gave me a brief history of their lives.  This afternoon, I thanked my long-gone auntie for teaching me to appreciate the beauty of birds.  Fairie Lyn, your love of birds lives on through me.

One Legged Birds?

  If you ever wander about a bayou like I often do, you start to ponder the whys and wherefores of a lot of things.  Just this morning, a questioned rambled about in the brain for a while even though I knew the "scientific" answer.  The mind-boggling part had nothing to do with the question of why shorebirds will stand on one leg but had everything to do with if they actually like standing on one leg.  It is a well-known fact that the herons, egrets and cranes around here stand on one leg to keep the other one snug up in their feathers.  Their long, spindly legs lose a lot of heat on these cold nights and mornings so standing on one while the other leg is tucked up under the feathers conserves a lot of heat...but do they like it?  Are they comfortable standing there for hours?  How do they not fall over?  (Think about it...would you be able to stand like that for hours?  I would not!)

  This morning, there were two birds on the end of the pier.  One was a tri-colored heron and the other a snowy egret.  Both were standing in their "unipedal" position, both were staring straight toward my brother's pier and both were oblivious to my presence.   There was just enough breeze to make the birds wobble a bit, now and again.  This is when the all-important question of whether they were happy started squirming its way into my mind.  Oh, how delightful it would be to converse with my fine feathered friends.  But, alas, that is not possible so the answer will never be known.

  I sat on the pier watching the birds for a good while.  Only once did they change positions and swap legs.  In fact, they did this in sync!  It was almost as if a timer was set and it was beeping a loud alarm saying "Time to swap legs!"  Watching them, I had to think how nice and warm their feather must feel to that cold leg! Speaking of warmth, it was time to head back inside.  It was, indeed, a bit chilly out and I do not plan on standing on one leg while tucking the other up in my jacket!

The Return of the Pelicans

  Watching the brown pelicans fly above the water, dive then take flight again is much like watching some well-choreographed dance.  While they are rather awkward on land due to the position of their legs, these birds are some of the most agile fliers ever to exist!  They can fly just inches above the water's surface, splash dive and immediately "water-walk" back into flight.  The water-walking is their method of getting up and out of the water before takeoff.  Brown pelicans sort of do a hop, skip and jump before lifting up from the water.  Their wide wingspan (of about 7 feet!) propels them along nicely but folded can enable a quick dive.  Speaking of their dives, contrary to what most folks think, they do not catch fish on the initial dive.  The splashdown is merely to confuse any fish and send them in a panic.  The bird actually sits and scoops up the disoriented fish in their huge bill.  If you ever watch the birds, you will notice that the bills can hold gallons of water (and hopefully fish).  After scooping, the pelican will point its bill skyward and allow the water to drain, all the while, keeping the fish inside.

  Early this afternoon, Son and I headed to the pier to adjust the moorings of the small skiff.  The stiff winds and heavy rains of late had pulled at the ropes and loosened the boat enough to cause problems.  While he was securing the ropes, I watched the pelicans.  Nine of the birds were diving in the shallow water.  They were scooping the six inch long mullet that were seeking deeper water.  The birds were definitely getting their bellies filled today!!

  It is good to see the waterfowl coming back into the Bay and Bayou after all of the troubles caused by the opening of the spillways this spring and summer.  Now, the area seems much more natural than earlier.   Plenty of fish have returned which has caused the birds to come home again.  Things are getting back to normal...good to see.  Let's hope the officials make better calls next time.