Golden Clams

   I often speak of the "golden glow" of the water during some sunrises.  The entire Bay and Bayou appear to be afire with the reflection of the horizon.  It is mesmerizing.  In fact, I am rarely missing from the pier at daybreak simply because the kaleidoscopic colors send the brain into a frenzy of happiness.  This morning, however, that did not happen.  I was there, the sun rose but the water was missing.  The north wind had pushed the water far out from the shoreline so there was no glorious color being cast.  Mud does not do as well.  Not that I was too disappointed as...the sun did rise and I was alive to see it.  It is just a case of finding other magical moments to entertain the mind.  I did.  As I turned to head back up the hillside, a glimmer of "gold" was found!  Embedded in that slippery mud was a hefty clamshell.  While the mud does not reflect the sunrays, that clamshell sure did.  In fact, it practically gleamed!  There...there was the magical moment!

  It does not take much to make the wheels in my brain to start whirring with excitement.  All sorts of thoughts reeled about in a frenetic pace but the most prevalent was "How have I never seen the incredible beauty in a common clamshell?"  The mud, itself, even became more lovely simply due to how it held the shell.  As I pondered the shell and mud, the sun slid a bit further above the horizon behind me and caused a deep, dark shadow to form behind the clam.  This!  This was the perfect way to spend the morning...on the pier staring at a clamshell...by myself...completely engulfed in tranquility.  Bayou magic!  Nice!

Where Did It Go??

   This time of year finds us either having beautiful sunrises that turn the waters a lovely, shimmery golden hue or fog so thick that you can see nothing but a wall of white.  It is those golden morns that tend to get the most attention, however, especially when critter friends come to visit.  Their presence on the water makes it all the better.  By critter friends, I am referring to the tiny grebes.  Several pied-billed grebes can always be found near the pier during the winter months.  They have become so accustomed to my presence that they make little effort to skitter out of the way but photographing them is an iffy task as the birds dive quite often.

  Yesterday morning, the golden waters were at their best and the tiny grebes bobbed up and down constantly.  I only wanted one photograph...just one!  I got one...just one.  I do have several nice photographs of lovely golden water with ripples where a grebe "used to be".  The pied-billed grebes are a favorite of mine and have been ever since I first saw them.  They are so tiny compared to most of the other waterfowl and have the cutest faces.  

  Golden mornings, grebes, tranquility...it does not get any better.  Life is good, folks, when you can sit back and enjoy a few moments of whatever is around you.  

Busy After The Peace

   It was a day of getting gardening chores done in preparation of a spring planting.  This meant I was up before dawn to pick peas, cut cauliflower heads and cabbages and pull beets.  Then, for the next 3 hours I mulched oak leaves to put in new rows once the winter garden fades.  (Word of advice...if you do not have a market for cauliflower and cabbage, never....NEVER...plant a hundred of each.  After the first few offerings, you cannot give them away to anyone.  These are not unlike the proverbial zucchini giveaways.)  After all of that, I headed to the greenhouse to check the seedling tomatoes and peppers.

  This was not before I had made my rounds like every other morning.  The water called so I heeded.  The Bayou sometimes has a pull like no other.  This morning, as the moon was setting and the sun was peeping over the pines on the opposite shore of the Bayou, I was mesmerized by the golden hue set upon the water.  The last lingering pair of hooded mergansers were awash in the shimmery glow of the rising sun.  This...this is what draws me each morning and holds my heart during the day.  It was hard to break loose and attend those chores but it had to be done.  Tomorrow will be much the same as I am trying to work around the storms that hit us each spring.  At least, I have the golden morns to start the day even after the mergansers migrate.

Hoodies, Golden Moments and Memories!

   A few mornings ago, I awoke to find the room awash in a golden glow.  That told me that the sunrise was to be spectacular.  Even though, I had little emotional energy left to even think of sunrises, sunsets or anything else on the Bayou, instinct made me stumble out to the pier.  Golden....beautiful golden moments...those are the times that life hands you when you least expect.

  That morning, the waters of the Bay were pushed far from the shore by the north winds of overnight.  The mudflats were busied by the raccoons and shorebirds foraging for breakfast but I was more interested in three little beings paddling in the shallows.  The hoodies were back!  Hooded mergansers hold a special place in my heart.  They are not seen here except during the winter months and, even then, they are here for only few weeks.  I try to enjoy them as much as possible while the opportunity lasts.

  One of my early recollections of the hoodies involved my grandmother.  She loved feeding all the birds even the waterfowl.  Come wintertime, she would carefully put birdseed in the long, tray-like feeder under the south-facing window and then fill a pie tin with bread crumbs, corn and sometimes barley.  Carefully, she would traipse down to the pier my granddad had built.  The goodies would be scattered on the lower part of the lawn for the ducks to enjoy.  If, Pop and Granddad were trying to do a little duck hunting near the mouth of the Bayou, she would bang that pie tin and give a call of "Here, duck, duck, duck!"  Yep, those menfolk gave up the hunt rather quickly since they knew that "Hattie" was not approving of their antics!  Plus, all of the ducks within earshot would flock to their free meal.  Of course, the fish-eating mergansers never came to feast upon the grains but the banging on the tin would send them skittering across the water!

  It is funny how a simple things like the hoodies' presence can bring back a flood of memories.  Golden moments abound!  Life is good. 

  

Turn Around

   By the time I was able to get myself outside today, things were awash in the most glorious golden hue.  I noticed it first even before opening the French doors.  Every pane was reddened!  Once outside, the gardens were golden, the trees were golden and the waters of the Bayou were golden.  Oh, my!  It was as if I had stepped into an entirely different world.

 

  My step quickened as I wanted to get to the pier before this phenomenon ended.  I had to see what was happening with the sunrise!  Once there, I was a bit disappointed with the eastern horizon.  There was not a lot going on there but turning to the north and then to the west, I was purely blown away by the sky.  Wow!  The entire sky was ablaze with brilliant oranges and reds as a thunderstorm was threatening just west of us.  I was able to photograph the gorgeousness before it finally faded away as the sun rose above the pines.  Then, the clouds turned dark and ominous causing me to head back to the Little Bayou House.