Storms, Herons and Boredom

   I am grasping here, folks.  It has been two days since I have been able to roam the hillside and woods.  The storms seem to be everlasting so I am stuck inside much against my wishes.  When I do sneak outside for a few moments, it is to grab something from the garden for our meals.  (It is like going to the grocery store without ever leaving the Bayou!)  But, I am rapidly going stir crazy!  I need to be outside!  I am not sure how other folks can stay in their homes day in and day out.  

  A few days back, however, that sunshine was inviting me to get out and garden.  While most of the vegetable plot is in full swing, I am still revamping the other parts of the Small Gardens.  Storms and laziness on my part have put them into shambles.  One of the projects was to concrete the drainage ditch that I dubbed Pebble Creek.  The nigh on 70 ft of slope ends with Puddle Pond.  (Yes, these were named when I was confined to the Small Gardens for so many months.  Imagination, folks. It is called imagination.)  Son and I tackled the job and finished just before this round of storms.  This is another small pond dedicated to the frogs.  There are no fancy-schmancy exotic fish here on the Bayou.  It is either bull minnows or frogs.  I opted for the frogs since they help with pest control.  As I was cleaning up our mess from the concrete job, I stuck a heron decoy near the pond.  The decoy (along with two owls and a duck) was a deposited here by a past hurricane and has resided somewhere in the yard since.  It is only fitting to have it by Puddle Pond for a spell.  

  Once I get caught up on the chores, I plan to give our plastic bird its own makeover.  It definitely could use some paint and some new legs!  In the meantime, I figure the bird can stay where it is.  It wobbles with the southerly winds and sort of looks halfway real at times.  Maybe I need to toss the duck in Puddle Pond so the heron can have a friend.  Friends of all sorts are good.

Cute, Little Possum Face!

   It was a tiring day with not much of a break to go hiking about the hillside. With a few more days of cold weather settling in around us, cutting more firewood was in order.  This is all good because it "kills two birds with one stone".  (Not that I go around killing birds or even throwing rocks at them.)  With still lots of limbs and trees down from Hurricane Zeta, the firewood gathering, not only provides us warmth, but clears more debris.  It has been a slow go with that cleaning but this is helping tremendously. 

  It was my chore to haul and stack the wood.  Mark cuts, Son splits and I stack.  I am ok with this as it gives the mind a chance to wander around in the dark corners of the brain and pull out any thoughts that have been hidden.  I was in deep thought as I unloaded an armload of firewood.  I was taken aback when I saw a face looking back at me from the woodpile!  No, there was not a living critter there but rather a figment of the imagination.  As a toddler, Granddad had taught me to "look for faces" in just about anything and everything.  Well, I found a cute, little possum face in a chunk of firewood.  Or, maybe it is an aardvark...only we do not have those on the Bayou...so possum, it is!  

  I was so tickled by the cute little face that I had to show Son.  He is very obliging but still sighs deeply and says, "You are certainly easily amused".   Perhaps this social distancing and self isolation thing is getting to me.  The social interaction with people has started causing me to find entertainment in odd places.  But...I do see it!  Cute, little possum!  You just have to love pareidolia! 

Tiny Orb of Sap

   When out meandering about the place, I am always on the lookout for anything that has changed since the last hike.  With life as it is, entertainment has to be found in oddities instead of people.  I am good with that as I have long avoided much social contact.  I do not see the need for all the drama that comes with interaction with society.  I prefer to live my life with limited access to the "outside" world.  Occasionally, however, the need for new ideas makes me long for some sort of entertainment.   That is when I search the place for any oddity that can fill the imagination.

  Yesterday after finishing my chores, I trudged through the mud near the marsh edge.  Surely. my brain would be jostled enough by something besides mud!  Just as I was thinking mud was to be the high point of the hike, the sunrays hit upon a tiny speck on the pathway.  A spark of brilliant blue was to be seen on a gnarled root.  Hmmm...that was a bit interesting so, regardless of the knees of my jeans getting wet and muddy, I dropped down to inspect the tiny blue orb.

  Resin!  Or as we call it, pine gum.  Hurricane Zeta had obviously scraped a pine root bare and marred it enough to cause the pine sap to rise in a tiny ball.  This gum was now hardened on the outside creating the perfectly clear (although yellow as it was only blue by reflecting the sky) orb.  The sunrays were hitting it in the right position to allow me to see the reflection of the bright blue sky and surrounding oak tree tops in the orb's surface.  Ok, so that was fascinating!  

  The finding of the pine gum brought the brain around into a circle of things from how to remove the sticky stuff from clothing to needing to make some salve.  The salve is more important than fretting over a smear on the jeans so now the brain is in high gear of remembering the concoction...pine gum, oil, beeswax...hmmm...time to do some pondering and some searching for pine gum. I will need a good bit more than that tiny orb! Setting and keeping goals are good entertainment...at least for me.

Twists and Turns

   If there is any one thing that stands out about living on the Bayou, it is the fact that you can be totally alone and not be lonely.  Many folks ask me how I am not bored being here by myself for so much of the time.  Well, there is too much to do to be bored.  In fact, I would be bored living like other people do.  If my day was spent indoors, in front of a TV or merely doing the same thing every day, my brain would explode!  I am wired to keep busy even when not feeling well.  With the health problems that settled in this past July, my methods of doing things has changed greatly but the chores still get done...life goes on...just differently.

  Early mornings are my favorite time to be out and about.  A certain peace can be found on the Bayou that is nowhere else on this old planet.  Of course, that peace has to be found within before the Bayou can work its magic.  When life offers up a bit of turmoil and the world spins around like a tempest in a teapot, the Bayou brings it all into perspective.  The twists and turns of life spill out somewhere just like the winding streams of the Bayou spill out into the Bay.  If you do not wish to be tossed out into the mass chaos, then stick to the calm waterways.  

  The winding of the Bayou was clear as I stepped outside the other morning.  The sunrise was spotlighting the twists and turns as it glinted off the rivulets of water and mudflats.  I knew it was to be a magical day...I just knew it.  The Bayou does not lie.  Not a boring day here...ever!

I'm Late!

  Earlier today, I was out sitting by the little Frog Pond when a sudden blip of red crossed over my shoe.  When I looked, nothing was there.  Well, now!  Am I seeing things?  Perhaps I had been in the sun a bit too long.  My time outdoors has been limited for some time now but surely a half hour of sunshine is good for healing.  I looked again.  Nope.  Nothing.  What was that?

  A few moments later, another flash of red but this time, it was under the plum tree.  Aha!  I know what you are and I am elated to see you in the small gardens!  A Cow Killer Ant or Velvet Ant was making her rounds in the gardens.  Scurrying, scurrying!  I had to giggle!  Ok, Mrs. Velvet Ant, you remind me of a certain story rabbit.  "I'm late, I'm late!  For a very important date!  No time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"  The Disney version of "Alice in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll started playing itself out in my memory.  My little Velvet Ant was doing a good job portraying the White Rabbit's hurried antics.

  I find that I am delving into memories and fantasies on a greater basis as I have this extra time on my hands.  With everything pulled out from under me, I have to resort to something to keep the mind occupied.  Going from the full days (4 am to 5 pm) of hard work landscaping the place to full days of zilch, is mind-boggling to say the least.  I am bored.  There is at least one more week...maybe more depending on my progress...of this idleness.  I am limited to "light-duty" jobs like picking the scuppernongs or making jelly.  Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for the ability to do what I am allowed but that does not make it any less boring for someone who is normally as busy as a bee...or wasp, in today's case.

  Yes, the Velvet Ant or Cow Killer Ant is actually the female of a type of wasp.  She has no wings and greatly resembles a huge, furry ant.  The male actually looks just like what we know as a wasp.  He is more docile but she is as busy as a bee!  Scurrying, scurrying!  I'm late!  I'm late!!!  I'm late!! ...While I sit...bored.

Mutant Lilies!

  With all that this year has thrown at us, mutant lilies just add a bit more interest.  At least lilies are of the friendly sort and don't put us in quarantine or make us run out to buy tons of toilet tissue.  Lilies just sit there and look pretty and bring smiles to those of us who are fortunate enough to find them during our daily walks.  As (self-crowned) Queen of the Small Gardens, I have deemed this lily as "Find of the Day" and it shall be exalted as the Crown Jewel of the Small Gardens!  For as long as it blooms, the lily shall be honored with great oohs and ahhs by all who venture forth through the garden gate!  So be it!  The Queen has spoken!

  Yeah, I am still grounded.  And I am still bored.  Honestly, I thought by this time, I would be roaming the full Bayou again but that has been pushed back by at least another week.  Maybe more.  We shall see.  But!  But as long as the garden keeps providing such beauty for me to revel in, who cares?  I could dwell in the Small Gardens forever.  

  This particular lily is the same type as dozens of others that growing wild across the hillside.  They come up and grow where they will as I have no heart to mow them.  All of the others are of normal height (4 feet) and have normal numbers of blooms (5 to 8).  I believe this one is showing a bit of gratitude for my helping hand.  When Tropical Storm Cristobal blew through the area, it knocked the lily stalk to the ground.  It was wind battered and mud covered by the time I found it.  I propped it up against the gatepost and found twine to tie it. That post proved sturdy enough but not nearly tall enough as the lily got a growth spurt.  A long pipe secured to the post gave needed support.  The lily soon soared to over 8 feet tall!  Now it is blooming with much gusto. Thirteen blooms are open and at least fourteen more buds are ready.  The whole thing is about the size of a bushel basket!  A little help can go a long way, obviously.  Either that or the Bayou is being invaded by mutant lilies!

Don't Bother

  Sometimes you can tell by the time the sun rises over the pines that the day is just not going the way you planned.  That is the way my day started.  During the night, I awoke several times to check on the old dog as he has been have great difficulty at night.  All was well with him.  I was elated that he was breathing fine and seemed comfortable after having bouts of heavy congestion for a while now.  It seemed as if this was to be a restful night.  Then, at 4 am, he awoke and was restless.  He gets a bit disoriented with just a small lamp to light the room and begins bumping into things as he searches for me.  Well, that was the beginning of my day....4 am...early.  In fact, it was too early even though I normally am up at daybreak.  Since it was still dark outside, I dillydallied around before taking him out for his morning hike.   When I finally did, that sunrise told me it was a day I should have stayed in bed.  It was as if the tiny bit of light was telling me "Don't bother trying to get anything done today.  It ain't happenin'!"  So...the start of the day set the pace. It wasn't happenin'.

  While the sunrise, itself, was gorgeous, things went sliding downhill from there.  I had high hopes of finishing some yard work that I started yesterday but the weather did not play well.  There was nothing to do except give in and stay inside.  The old dog and lazy cat and I moped around for most of the day.  Mr. PJ slept, Ms. Nycto fidgeted and I tried to clean house.  That is a losing battle with those two inside.  Both the dog and cat are losing their winter coats which means instead of dust bunnies under the sofa, I have dust puppies and dust kittens everywhere!  I finally gave up and resigned to having a hairy house...at least, for the meantime.

  Those heavy clouds at dawn are usually the harbingers of bad weather.  This weekend is supposed to be plagued by storms complete with thunder, lightning and high winds.  Torrential rains are to pelt the Little Bayou House and the weather forecasters have not ruled out waterspouts and tornadoes in the area.  For anyone in the path of these storms, hunker down and be safe!

Critter Attack!

  The waiting for an approaching tropical system is sometimes the hardest part.  You scurry around all day preparing and then...wait.  You wait for what seems like eons before the first gust hits or the first torrential downpour.  You can either sit and wait or you can find things to fill the hours.  I prefer to occupy my time even if it means meandering about the hillside.

  Early this morning, I took the old dog out for an walk when I was bedazzled by the way the sun rays filtered through the trees.  The sight made me stop and stare for a bit and then I realized that there was also some sort of tiny critters flying about in those sunbeams.  Ok, so that meant I needed to investigate!  What was flying hither thither in the morning sun???  I wish I had not investigated so closely, however.  Those tiny dots of light in the photograph are mosquitoes!  Hundreds and hundreds of mosquitoes had obviously been pushed out of the marsh with the high tides.  They were up the hillside a bit playing in the sunlight but they sure did not like me interrupting them...or perhaps they did.  I was literally attacked!  Never get in the midst of a swarm of mosquitoes if you do not want dozens of bites.  The old dog and I had to race back up the hillside and into the house.

  So, one of the worst parts of waiting for the arrival of a hurricane is boredom.  That boredom can lead to trouble and a lot of mosquito bites!  The old dog and I have had to change our walking route to avoid the hoards of bugs down near the marsh.  For the time being, we will be happy in the citrus orchard.

Bird Writings

  While on the pier, I began trying to read the bird writings.  Yep, that is just how things have been lately.  I am bored to the point that I find bird footprints to be some strange hieroglyphics that need to be deciphered.  Quite surely, those birds are trying to send me some sort of message with their traipsing about in the near perfect patterns.  If only I could read the bird writings, I might come to understand their feelings much better.  Perhaps the birds are trying to reach out and communicate with me!  Yeah...that is a long stretch, isn't it.

  Most of the footprints on the mudflats, today, were those of the killdeer.  They have been quite busy searching for food as of late.  Their scurrying steps leave a zigzagging pattern in the mud until the next high tide.  The egrets and herons have much larger feet so their prints sink further into the mud and become water-filled rapidly.  There is not much to be read by their steps.

  All of this makes me wonder if we, as humans, are truly the only ones on this planet that have a method of recording our thoughts.  Back in the day, Pop always used to reprimand my handwriting attempts by saying that I needed to "neaten the chicken-scratch".  This would make me try harder since I definitely did not want to be compared to a chicken scratching about the ground.  Most of their footprints were sullied with poop and I figured that was about as nasty as it got.  Pop's words rang in my head as I tried to make each letter perfect and keep the same graceful slant to my words that I had seen with his and Mom's handwriting.  Penmanship was a huge thing back in their day and they were trying to pass along the skill to their kids.  While I never mastered the beauty that their writing with had, at least mine was legible.  That is about it...legible.

  The birds' writings may or may not have some unseen meanings but at least they are interesting.  To a person with cabin fever, anything out of the ordinary is a welcome change.