A Gift Along The Garden Path

   As I age, I find that my perspective on a lot of things has changed.  Some of that perspective has changed for the better and...well...some just has changed.  A lot of folks would be quick to say that those particular changes are not to "their" liking.  Does that bother me?  Not one iota as these last years on this old world are mine to be filled however I choose.  My perspective on life in general is no one else's business so I shall go about my day as I please.  One of the things that brings a wee bit of joy is to wander the garden paths just as the morning sun is peeking over the pines on the far side of the Bayou.  As that light filters through the broad oaks with their dense leaves, tiny parts of my world are spotlighted.  Perhaps without those pinpoints of light, my poor, old eyes would never see the miniscule features along the way.  In my way of thinking, those morning "dots" are gifts for me alone.  

  This morning's special gift was a common Gulf Fritillary Butterfly.  Masses of these come each fall for a visit so I have seen thousands upon thousands of the same type.  This is not some rare butterfly nor is it the most interesting but, early this morning, it was incredibly special.  I had just climbed the tiered steps up from the pier into the Small Gardens, when a single beam of light highlighted the butterfly.  The insect was still wet from the overnight rains.  It obviously had been caught off-guard of the coming storm as it chose a roosting spot with poor protection.  As I neared, the butterfly never twitched but sat perfectly motionless in hopes that I would not notice it.  This is a defense mechanism since most predators hunt by motion.  

  Not wanting to disturb the lovely creature, I photographed it then slowly backed away...leaving it in peace.  Later as I was picking lemon balm, the butterfly flitted around the nearby zinnias and brought more delight.  In my point of view, this interaction between human and critter was far more meaningful that most of the conversations that I have had with "people" recently.  I felt blessed in more ways than one.

Another Near Miss

   I have to admit that early this morning, Mark came in like a knight in shining armor to slay the dragon that was a bit to near.  As much as I hate to kill snakes, if a cottonmouth is too close to the Little Bayou House, it has got to go.  My eyesight is not the best by natural aging so any venomous snake in the Small Gardens is a threat.  This morning, I was pulling grasshoppers off of the petunia plants near the little Frog Pond when I had "that feeling".  Looking down near my feet under the petunias was someone that was definitely not the nicest of friends.  Within seconds, the cottonmouth slid down into the water of the pond and turned to literally glare at me.  I guess I disturbed its morning hunt for frogs.   Thankfully, Mark was nearby and came to my rescue!  He trotted off to get the "snake-grabby-things" from the greenhouse while I kept a watchful eye on the snake that was now a mere three feet from where I was standing.  Moments later, my "Knight in Shining Armor" had the serpent clamped in the jaws of his weapon and I was safe!

  Actually, I am more concerned for others that come to the Bayou.  Visitors may not act as calmly as I do which causes a snake to strike.  A snake rarely wastes its venom on someone or something that it does not deem as a threat.  Had I flailed about while screaming, chances are the snake would have reacted to my (unnecessary) actions.  Also, with venomous snakes, I worry about the grandkids.  Kids, being kids, may not notice as snake that is so well camouflaged.

  The snake was disposed and all is well.  I just wish they would learn to stay down in the marsh where they belong.  Then, we could both live in peace.  All non-venomous snakes are quite welcome to live in the Small Gardens.  I have no qualms about sharing that space with them!  Still, I am thankful that Mark was there to come to my rescue!

Miniscule Work of Art!

   I am one that wanders aimlessly about the property purely engrossed in the miracles that surround me. The early morning hikes that start before dawn on the pier then wind around behind the greenhouse and canebrake are always full of surprises.  At this age, I should be amazed simply by the fact that there are still things that can surprise me but, come to find out, Mother Nature always has something new up her sleeve.  It is grand.

  This morning's pier time found me mesmerized by the workings of a tiny creature.  The critter in question was a wee spider that had spun her web on a pier post.  A single, bent nail provided support for her upper strand and the web stretched from there to the post.  The web was perfect!  Added to that perfection were the jewel-like droplets from the light sprinkling of rain over the Bayou last night.  Teeny, tiny spider did not catch much for her breakfast but her web was surely an extravagant thing of beauty!

  The strength of the web, even from a spider this tiny, was astounding.  In proportion, the weight of the water droplets had to be extraordinary but most of the web was intact.  The few broken strands were most likely caused by the rough wind or from a large insect before the misting rain occurred.  Since webs are spun purely as a means of catching food, I often wonder if a spider ever sits back and admires her work of art.  If not...she should.  Humans only wish we could do half as good.  I am now going to make an effort to check on Teeny Spider with each trip to the pier.  She deserves the admiration.

Big, Fat Mushroom!

   For the past couple of years, I have been good at doing the isolation thing.  First, it was to be the two weeks.  That spread (at the advice of my doctor) to "a couple of months".  Then before I knew it, that year rolled around and I was still here by myself.  Well, sad to say, it has now become a habit...a daily ritual of sorts to make my rounds of the Bayou and surrounding area and go nowhere else.  My entire world revolves around these nigh on nine acres.  It is a small world for many but it is what my world consists of nowadays and has been for the past two and a half years.

  It is on those early morning hikes that I do my "pondering".  Along the pathways, something will pop up that jogs a memory or simply provokes a good "thinking".  This morning, I came across a lone mushroom sitting out in the middle of nowhere.  Right smack dab in the middle of a grassy space, a big, fat mushroom tilted its head southward as if watching the waters of the Bay.  Hmmm...well.  Maybe that was a hint.  Perhaps I am like that solitary mushroom and should sit and watch the tides roll in and out. 

  Solitude is replenishing.  It is good for the soul.  With it, you become truly aware of yourself and your surroundings.  Take it or leave it...that is where I am at this point.  So...I sat and watched the Bay.

Find your smiles

   It is far from being complete but the yard is finally getting to where I enjoy being in it again.   Due to hurricanes and health issues, the place had fallen into disarray.  It was disheartening and, to be totally honest here, I had no energy to even care about it much less fix it.  Also, to be honest again, it was the health issue that kicked me in gear.  Last July I had what the hospital claimed was a stroke.  My personal doctor has a problem calling it anything of the sort since all tests show differently.  Even a year later, there still has not been a clear cut diagnosis so I figure I would not fret over it.  It was during my "quarantine" (time where I was literally confined to what I started calling the "Small Gardens" by orders of Son) that I decided on a plan for the gardens.  Instead of a beautiful lawn and a few well placed flower beds, the entire hillside (over 4 acres) would be transformed into "rooms" with pathways connecting them.  I was not going to interfere with the wooded 4 acres but concentrate, instead, on what was cleared.  Starting with my designated area of the Small Gardens, things started being changed.  At first, I could not do much more than pull a few weeds or paint a gate.  Healing had to take place for me just as much as for the yard. It became a challenge that kept me pushing myself.   Get up, do physical therapy, work as much as I could in the yard, still do the home canning and then sit back and plan what was next.

  This morning as I was out at daybreak, a huge smile spread across my face as I found my first "enchanted" place.  I took the new pathway up the west side of the yard instead of the usual east.  I had just finished this area and wanted to "feel" the happiness.  As I reached the back side of Puddle Pond, rays from the rising sun started filtering through the shrubs. Wow! The enchantment was real!  I smiled.  I really smiled with pure glee at the sight.  No, it was not a massive, slap me up side the head change but was a wee nook of the garden that made me feel totally blissful.  My dream was happening!  

  Are the Small Gardens finished?  Nope and they probably never will be.  This is a work in progress. There is still an incredible amount of work to be done and I shall slowly get there.  The health has greatly improved in some ways but other things have been found that are setbacks.  Still, if I want to have a happy place, I have to keep striving toward it.  If ever the need arises that I have to be confined to the Small Gardens again, I want those smiles to come with each turn of a path.  The entire place will be filled with quirky finds such as the heron decoy (Hurricane Katrina debris) or the leftover Clue Hunt on the Bayou prop bottle tree.  Life is far too short to be stodgy and nitpicky about where the path takes you.  Just go and find the smiles.

I'm Free!

   So it was my first day to freely roam the entire yard...well, almost.  I did get to leave the confines of the Small Gardens and hike about the lower part of the yard and around by the canebrake.  Still, there was no wandering on the pier or creek bed but that will come soon.  After a bit more than a month of confinement, it sure felt glorious to stretch my legs and do some wandering!   While there was not a lot in the way of exciting events occurring during my hike, the escape was enough.

 While on the lower part near the pier, a beautiful bloom caught my eye.  A cluster of Salt-marsh Morning Glories had just started to open.  The buds had turned to the east and were bursting with beauty as the sun rose over the horizon.  I was excited as I have not seen these beauties in weeks!  It made me realize just how much I have been missing while my healing was taking place.

  

  The Salt-marsh Morning Glories are rather interesting plants.  As many times as I have tried to plant the seeds along the garden fences, they have never done well.  It takes having their "feet" wet to make them flourish.  Salt-marsh Morning Glories grow right in the brackish waters of the marsh.  In times of storms, flood waters can completely cover the vines but, once the water recedes, the vines go right on living and blooming.  The saltwater does not kill the roots. The blooms can be the pinkish color like the ones near the pier or almost blue.  There is even one beautiful white type that blooms on the other side of the Bayou where I cannot roam.  

  Yep, it does not take much to bring smiles when you are free to roam.  I can hardly wait until the ban on the pier visits is lifted.  I really NEED to get back to that water!  Happy hiking, folks!

Starting a Family!

  Early this morning, the water beckoned and I heeded its call.   Usually when I have this urge, it is because I feel there is a reason.  Either a spectacular sunrise is to occur or some of my critter friends are out and about.  This morning, the rails were busying themselves on the mudflats.  More oft than not, only the little female is foraging for breakfast but, this morning, the happy, little couple were working together.  The pair were cornering bull minnows in tiny pools where they could scoop up their breakfast with ease.  This is the pair that nests just a few feet from the pier.  Each nesting, they bring out their little ones to meet me which is a highlight of the summer for me!

  With rails, the male does most of the work building the nest after the female chooses the site.  The nest is built high enough above the water to assure that it stays dry but low enough to be hidden from most predators.  The male will set to work on the marsh mats that have accumulated by high tides.  He will build a small bowl-shaped nest with a ramp as an entrance.  Then, he builds a dome over this leaving just enough opening so the birds can easily enter. He will continue to add to the "house" even after the eggs are laid.   His ladylove will lay anywhere from two to sixteen eggs before incubating them.  It is not unheard of for her to incubate the eggs during the day and the male to take over for the night. 

  Our little chicks will hatch in about three weeks and leave the nest the same day.  They will be covered with black down which helps to hide them from hawks flying above the marsh.  Both parents will feed the little ones and teach them to forage on their own.  Little Mama will usually have two clutches each breeding season but can have a third if the weather permits.

The Stars Underfoot

  Several of my friends are avid hikers who often drive to wilderness parks or find nearby areas to do their exploring.  They discover wondrous things along their chosen paths and love to share their finds via photographs.  I find these pictures enthralling as they spike the curiosity and make me ponder if I can find such things here on the Bayou.  Sometimes, it just takes a kick in the right direction.  I know I will never find the snow-filled wonderlands that my cousin, Libby, does on her hikes nor the historic "man-made" finds that my daughter-in-law's Uncle Mark stumbles upon but there is always the outside chance that I can find a few of the same plants or critters in the photographs of an (unmet) friend, David, who lives in Florida.  All three of these folks inspire me to keep searching even though my hikes cover just the area around the Bayou.  

  I have taken to searching more for the "unnoticed" among curiosities along my hiking path.  The tiny spider that lives in a hickory nut shell, the small brown skink that scurries under the leaves, the minuscule bluets that grow beneath the taller grasses all pique the interest.  I want to know more about this often overlooked world of magnificent entities...the tiny tidbits of life that, more oft than not, go unseen, are trampled upon or merely ignored.

  Today's masterpiece of Mother Nature is none other than an earthstar!  Earthstars are mushrooms that closely resemble the familiar puffballs only they go one step (literally) further in releasing their spores.  An earthstar uses the same method of a puffball that "poofs" spores out of a tiny hole in the top of the ball.  The only difference is, the earthstar has an outer covering that protects the spores when it is not time to release them.  Usually, the spores are pounded out of the ball by raindrops.  The spores need the moisture to grow so earthstars are adamant about not letting them "poof" before the time is right.  The outer covering of an earthstar stays tightly closed around the ball until it "feels" the rain coming.  Then, it splits open and folds backwards revealing the inner spore ball.  This flattening of the outer cover is how the earthstar gets its name.  When it splits, the outer covering is somewhat star-shaped.  That extra "step" is that the earthstar can and does fold back up over the ball if the rains quit before the spores are all released. This action protects the spores from drying out too much.  As soon as another rainstorm threatens the area, the earthstar springs into action and folds the "star" back open to let the raindrops do their work.

  I was tickled to find the earthstar this morning.  This one was just the outer covering as the hard rains of last night obviously emptied the spore ball and the high winds ripped the ball from the covering.  My little earthstar had completed its life cycle and left its spores to renew the next generation.  It is tiny things like this that make life interesting.  Just think of how many wonders of the world are stepped on, walked over or ignored on a daily basis. 

Silly Bird!

  Along about daybreak, I take the old dog down the hill to do his business.  The short hike is about all he can manage so there are not a lot of photo opportunities for me along the way.  However!  It seems that one critter is going out of its way to provide me with a little bit of entertainment.  A young osprey waits for us to pass under the tall pine alongside of the path.  Once the old dog and I are within range, the osprey lets out a few screeches then starts some of the funniest poses.  Granted, it is hard to get good shots in the dark, up in a top of the pine and with the bird constantly moving but I try.  I try simply because the osprey is so accommodating.

  This morning, the bird not only did its morning stretches, it decided to give me the once over by nearly standing on its head to peer under the branch where it was perched.  I thought sure the bird was going to tumble down into the Bayou!  The osprey did this four times before the mother osprey called to it.  Then, the youngster spread its wings and took off after dear, old mom.  Mr. PJ and I headed back up to the Little Bayou House so he could climb back in his bed and rest.

Critter Encounter

  Have you ever been out at the break of dawn and suddenly get that feeling that someone or something is watching you?  The hair starts to tingle on the back of your neck and you start peering into the shadows to see if something is lurking nearby.  It is a strange feeling.  Normally, it would not bother me much being way down here on the Bayou but, with the old dog ailing, we do not need a critter attack.  Coyotes and bobcats are roaming the hillside and if they ever deemed that we were too near, it would not be a pretty sight.  I am sure that, even though he is feeble, Mr. PJ would try to defend me and, in a sense, give his life for me.  He is just that good of a friend....canine or not.

  On this morning's hike, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.  The hair started standing on end and that gut started knotting.  Something, somewhere was keeping a steady eye on the old dog and me.  Mr. PJ did not get the feeling and kept his slow amble down the path.  Silently...slowly...I reached out and put my hand on his back.  He stopped immediately and stared at me.  This gave me the opportunity to scan the area.  Somewhere among the underbrush, a shadowy figure lurked. 

  It did not take long before I found our "menacing monster".  A raccoon was keeping a wary eye on this pair that was invading "his" territory.  I breathed a sigh of relief but kept my hand on Mr. PJ's back.  "Stay, boy, stay!"  I said in a hushed voice.  While I was somewhat more at ease with this being a coon, they can be vicious in their own right when cornered and this was one HUGE coon!  It was nigh on as big as the old dog. There was no need to push the critter into a fight mode.  

  We stood motionless for a bit as the coon stared at us.  Then, he silently turned and waddled down the path in the opposite direction.  Mr. PJ and I turned and retraced our steps.  Finding one critter was enough for this morning.  If Mr. PJ had been younger and stronger, we would have ventured further down toward the creek bed but not today...not today.

You call it "tea". I call it "tisane".

  Meandering about the hillside, I have been known to snatch a snack or two from wild berries or fruit trees.  Blackberries, huckleberries and wild persimmons can be found along the pathways and make for the perfect, healthy snack.  It is, also, not uncommon for me to pick a few leaves from these hikes and then add to my "bouquet" from the garden.  The leaves are used to make tisanes which are my preferred drinks.  There is nothing like a fresh brewed tisane to brighten the day!  

  When I tell folks that my gathered leaves are to make a drink, I often get some pretty odd looks.  Then, if I mention the word "tisane", the looks are even funnier.  Folks are perplexed by the term.  "What is a tisane?" often spills out of their mouths.  Well, a tisane is a decoction made with herbs, spices or leaves.  "Oh, you meant to say "tea". they proudly announce.  Nope.  There is no "tea" in my tisane so technically, it is not "tea".  Well, about this time, folks get really flustered at me and ask for coffee.  I am good with that as I like coffee, too!

  The other day, I had to linger under the wild persimmon tree as I waited on the old dog to catch up with me.  As I stood there looking at those fine leaves, I just had to pluck a handful.  Then, as I passed through the garden gate, I added some rosemary and pineapple sage to my bouquet.  Ummm!  Those smelled so fine that I could hardly wait to get inside to brew my concoction!  Fresh herbs and leaves make the finest drink!  

  So, folks, it is ok by me if you prefer to call your drink by the name of "herbal tea".  I shall call mine a "tisane".  Either way, the drinks are healthy and tasty!  The name matters not!

In Bloom!

  This morning after bringing the old dog back inside, I slipped out for a quick hike back down the hillside.  Since he is ailing, there is no purpose served in tiring him with my interests.   The hike, itself, was triggered by a glimpse of blossoms down on the east path.  I wanted to get a better glimpse of the tiny blooms.  A few months back, a friend informed me that the bush in question is called sparkleberry.  I had to admit that was a new one to me.  He said that the berries are in the blueberry family and are edible even though they are a rather tart or bitter.  More to my interest was the fact that they could be used to make jelly and jam.  The berries are also known as farkleberries which seems to be a strange name.  Sparkleberry, I can understand as the berries are literally shiny and sparkly!  

  The sparkleberry bush next to the path is actually in a large clump of palmettos. The bush did indeed have thousands of blooms and was also being visited by a good many honeybees and butterflies.  This was good but below the low hanging limbs another cluster of buds caught my eye.  The palmetto was blooming, too.   Ahh, another thing of beauty on such a short hike.  The palmetto dates are supposedly edible, as well.  I have yet to be able to gather any ripe fruit as the raccoons tend to beat me to them each year.  Some day....maybe.

  I had to hurry back to reality so the old dog would not have an anxiety attack.  If I am absent for any length of time he panics and begins to stumble around the room.  My "me time" was over.  Duty called.

Fog, Cobwebs and Life

  Early this morning, a heavy fog blanketed the Bayou.  My steps were softly muffled by the wet leaves and a certain stillness engulfed the area.  I was cut off from the "civilized" (and I use the word lightly there) world and was left in the wild for a bit.  It is always exhilarating at times like this.  The pea-soup thick fog made it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of me which always is a bit of a hair raising moment.  You get this feeling that all eyes are watching your every move.  To be honest, foggy mornings are my favorite time to hike.  The critters of the Bayou are out and about as they are concealed as well.  

  Of all the beauty that does surround me on these hikes, I think the spiderwebs are perhaps a favorite.  In the heavy fog, they become jewel-laden adornments for the tree branches or reeds.  This morning, there were hundreds of cobwebs draped among the limbs.  As I photographed some webs, a thought of how there is a similarity between the spiderwebs and life.  What seems simple at first sight, is actually more complex when you really began to study it.  The creation of the web takes time to perfect as does our own attempt to make our way in this old world.  Rush it and it becomes a mess.  One rash move can cause everything to come crashing down around us.  Even a small disturbance can have a ripple effect that makes things become discombobulated. 

  The similarity does not end with the trials that can create a mess. The spider does not give up when her web is torn by an intruder or sags due to water droplets.  She merely takes it down and rebuilds it to be even better.  In life, as with the spiderweb, to make things right again, you learn, rebuild and make things stronger than before.  That persistence to carry on is what makes things worth the effort.  Seeing the beauty that is created (and often recreated) gives us the desire to push forward and be better than before. Just like the spider spinning her elaborate web, we are creating our intricate, beautiful life.  It pays to do things calmly and rationally no matter how many times we have to redo them.  Fog. cobwebs and life...they all make you think.

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!

The Sentinel

  After taking the old dog out for a short walk to do his morning business, I let him go back to bed.  The morning fog would not be good for an ailing dog.  I ventured out alone for a few moments merely because I had heard the "critter neighborhood watch" gang screaming their alarms.  The blue jays were up in arms about something and they were not letting it go easy.  With finding the snake yesterday, this was most likely another.  Best I keep track of where they are since the old dog's senses are dulling and I do not want him getting bit.

   This, however, was not a snake.  The birds were alarmed that a great horned owl had decided to rest in the tall pine.  The jays were relentless causing the  owl to move further down into the creek.  Once all the commotion had calmed, the sweet music of a cardinal could be heard.  My path changed to find this bird.  Perched high in the old dead tree that sits on the edge of the marsh, the male cardinal was keeping watch on his ladylove below.  Obviously, birds think winter is over and nesting time has arrived.  In the shrub below the dead tree, the female cardinal was trying out her new abode.  Whether she chooses this nest or waits to lay eggs in another is to be seen.  Whichever, I am sure Mr. Cardinal will stand guard for her.  Last year, the small screech owl actually raided the cardinal nest in this very same shrub so it is doubtful she will try it again.

  My quick outing had to come to a halt as I needed to check on the old dog.  He does not do well without my presence, as of late.