Not always graceful!

   The young Great Blue Heron that has taken over "Moe's" spot (Moe being the resident heron for many years) has not learned to be graceful at all times.  He still has a lot of the awkwardness of a young teenager.  This clumsiness comes in view when the bird is making a mad dash for mullet or menhaden from my net.  (I spend more time feeding the birds than fishing!)  If this new heron (Alfalfa) is standing on one of the pier posts, he is gorgeous...all full of poise and elegance but, once food appears, he is just a silly, young bird.

  All I caught today was a prickly pinfish but Alfalfa was ready for breakfast and had no qualms about tackling the pointy fins.  As soon as the fish was tossed his way, the bird raced down the pier to grab his prize.  With neck outstretched and wings held back, he stabbed at the poor fish.  In one gulp the five inch long fish was down the gullet!  There was no pomp and circumstance in his method...just grab and go!

  While I am happy to catch breakfast for this bird, I sure miss my Moe.  He had become quite tame and would carefully take fish from my hand making sure to not grab a finger by mistake.  Moe was a friend.  Hopefully, Alfalfa will follow suit. 

Rainy Days and "Not Moe".

   The fishing has still been a no-go...today more than ever.  I would have loved to be on the pier but as soon as I rolled out of bed at 4am, a torrential downpour could be heard pelting the rooftop of the Little Bayou House.  I probably should have just gone back to sleep but that, too, was a no-go.  Coffee was calling!  So, I tumbled out of bed and headed to the kitchen.  While the coffee brewed, I made a batch of bread dough.  Baking is always good during rainy weather!  It keeps me from traipsing about the place in the pouring rain.

  Yesterday, however, the sunshine drew us to the pier.  While we did not catch much in the way of fish for our lunch, Mark and I had a lovely visitor.  A Great Blue Heron came to beg for handouts.  With the fish elsewhere, the bird, too, was having difficulty catching lunch.  By sheer luck Mark caught a nice sized mullet in the net, dropped it in the bucket and threw for another.  After coming up with an empty net, he turned to see the heron snatching the mullet from the bucket!  The bird had lunch and we did not!

  While this heron looked very similar (they all look alike) to Moe, our resident heron friend, it was an entirely different bird.  This was a young (first year as an adult) bird and Moe is about 5 years old.  It always makes me happy to know we have yet another critter friend, here on the Bayou.  Welcome new friends and keep the old.  Life is good.

Friendship With Moe

   Due to more house renovations, I have not been to the pier in a few days.  It is up at 3am to start daily chores before starting the construction job.  I am the official "gofer", painter and otherwise helper.  I do what is needed to keep things going smoothly as Son does the heavy work.  Between this and the garden, time for relaxation was nil so lounging on the pier did not happen.

  This morning, however, I was bound and determined to watch the sunrise.  It was gorgeous but my attention was held by a visitor.  As soon as I neared the end of the pier, I heard the soft flapping of wings.  My heron friend had returned!  A beautiful heron came to visit.  The bird perched on one of the pier posts as I made my way down.  Once there, I welcomed the bird, picked up the cast net and told it that I sure would try to catch its breakfast.  The heron and I have this odd relationship...I catch its food and it grants me so photographs.  Works for me!

 Years ago, I had named this bird "Moe".  It was a juvenile then (2018) and has grown into a handsome adult now.  Today, Moe flew in to visit, posed beautifully, ate breakfast (a ladyfish and a mullet) and then stayed even though I had to head back to the Little Bayou House.  Our visit was short but filled my heart with joy.  Some folks find it strange that I find happiness with my critter friends.  I find it strange that folks think their opinions matter to me.  

Not Just Older...Better!

     It is no secret that I take a lot of photographs of the wildlife around the Bayou.  That is one of the whole points of this blog.  I want to be able to keep a history of what life is like here for my grandkids that rarely get to visit and for anyone else who just enjoys nature at its best.  Wildlife here abounds as this is one of the few places left to be wild (as life should be).  Most everyone that knows me has an inkling of my passion...especially Son.  Since he spends about as much time outdoors as I do, he has been witness to me climbing trees, crawling through the underbrush or simply "waiting" for the right moment for a critter to emerge from the marsh.  He has seen it all.  This led up to a series of photographs that are rather remarkable because of a single factor.

  It was midmorning when a Great Blue Heron decided to perch itself high on a dead pine tree that sits at the edge of the marsh.  With nothing between the bird and my position on the board path leading to the pier, it was the perfect photo opportunity.  Of course, that meant that at least a dozen pictures had to be taken even if it was with the old camera that I kept in the yard as I worked.  (The new camera comes out only when the weather is clear and when I am not liable to forget where I put it when working!)  Finally, the bird tired of my antics and flew off over the marsh but I was happy with my efforts.  

  Then the big discovery!  As I made my way up the hill, I noticed Son coming from near the greenhouse.  He had a big grin AND...the new camera!  It seems that he had seen the heron and knew that I would want some photographs.  The bird was being doubly photographed!  Later, when we viewed both sets of pictures, we realized that they were eerily similar!  He and I both took pictures of the bird as it changed poses but our respective cameras must have been clicking at the same time!  Now I have two sets of photographs of the same bird but slightly different angles. 

  This all did bring one thing to light, however.  Like I said, I was using the old camera and he was using the new.  My old one is from 2007....the new one is from 2020.  You would think with all of the "upgrades" with modern technology, the new camera would produce far better photographs.  Personally, I think the old does.  Son is far steadier than I am and has much more knowledge of the buttons and gadgets on the camera.  His photographs should have been far clearer.  The old camera stayed on one setting, I was using a driftwood post as a tripod and I was actually farther away from the bird.   When we were examining the photographs, Son finally could see what I have been saying about the new camera's pictures being "grainy" when they were enlarged.  He had a technical explanation for it but did agree that I should use the old camera as long as it is still working. Just to be certain, we swapped cameras and experimented and had the same results. The old camera had clearer pictures regardless of who was using it.  IT IS BETTER!  Maybe being old is not so bad after all.  (In each set of photos above, the first ones were taken with the old camera.)

Refocus

   With all the everyday hubbub, it is easy to lose focus on what really matters.  "Things that need to be done" can oftentimes get in the way of what "should be done".  We all get hung up in chores, duties to others and the humdrum of everyday life that we forget to keep an eye on that "should be done" which is take care of ourselves.  I know I am that way much to a fault.  Lately, I have not dedicated any time whatsoever to selfcare and my physical, as well as, mental state is taking a severe hit.  It has got to stop.

  That was the revelation that I had on the pier this morning before dawn.  The skies were just beginning to glow that glorious golden orange when I noticed a lone heron standing hunched over in the shallows near the marsh.  The bird was slightly hidden behind some tall cord grass and it took some focusing of the camera to be able to photograph the bird.  After getting my picture, I watched as the bird looked so forlorn...so forgotten.  I know herons are solitary birds meaning they prefer to be alone except when seeking a mate but this fellow did give the appearance of being lonely.  

  Pondering the bird, the difficulty focusing the camera and the forlornness of the setting, I came to the conclusion that I needed change.  I needed me.  I guess it is time to shuffle the daily workload for a while so I can get back to me.  Refocus...

Could It Be Moe?

   A few years back, I had the honor of befriending a Great Blue Heron.  This started when the bird as a youngster not yet adept at catching fish ventured onto the pier.  I offered it a few little mullet which it greatly appreciated...so much so that the bird returned every day for a handout.  After the first few days, I decided to name the bird "Moe".  He continued to come even after becoming an adult bird.  He and I got to be such good friends that he would actually take fish from my hands without ever pecking at me.  Oh, yeah.  I was warned.  "That bird will peck your eyes out if you get too close!"  It is silliness like this that bewilders me.  Moe never tried to "peck my eyes out" nor harm me in any way.  None of the critters of the Bayou do.  None.  For a couple of years, I had to limit my pier time due to health issues.  It broke my heart to know my friends (such as Moe) would not understand why I abandoned them but I followed doctor's orders and stayed a bit closer to the Little Bayou House. 

  Early this morning as I sat and watched the sunrise, I noticed a heron on my brother's pier.  The bird brought back memories of Moe and the good times I had with the bird.  I watched as the heron scooped up mullet after mullet from the water.  It brought me joy just knowing I was back in my "element"...back in my happy place.  

  As I sat there watching that bird, he kept a watchful eye on me, too. After a good half hour, the heron left my brother's pier and flew directly over where I was sitting.  It surprised me to see the bird actually do a "wing tilt" much as pilots do planes when they acknowledge or notice someone.  Do birds do that, too?  Was this Moe and did he recognize me?  Probably not.  Most likely the wobble was due to air currents or just the heron changing course.  Still, it brought a smile and in my mind, Moe gave me a quick "hello" before flying to the back of the Bayou. It was a good morning.

Lessons from the Herons

   I have often said that not many folks would want to live as I do.  I prefer to not get caught up in the hullabaloo of the modern world.  Yes, I have modern convenience galore but I never wish to be totally dependent on them.  It is my belief that if things ever hit the fan and our current way of life is no more, many folks would not know how to survive.  I want to, at least, have a going chance!  So, I do things, learn things and live things so that nothing is going to be a surprise.  One of the things that has helped me tremendously is watching the critters of the Bayou.  If they can survive the harshness, then perhaps, there is a lesson to be learned...or many lessons, for that matter. 

  This morning was drizzly, not too cold but chilly and windy.  That would not daunt me.  A hike is a daily ritual so a little inclement weather would not stand in the way.  This is when I clear my mind and prepare to face the day no matter what is thrown at me.  In the early morning light, the only other critters out were the birds.  My choice of viewing took a turn to the shorebirds as they hunted breakfast.  The birds knew that they would have to have full bellies to survive the bitter cold that is to fall upon us this evening and linger around for the next few days.  A lovely Snowy Egret stalked tiny minnows in the shallows.  The slight rain did not deter it from its task.  Nor did those raindrops hamper the fishing of the Great Blue Heron.  As do most herons, these two were slowly...very slowly stalking their prey.  They move through the waters with grace and then the head plunges and the sharp bill snaps closed.  Success!  One fish to start the meal.  Neither bird seemed to notice the other as they waded down the shore line.  Both fully preparing for what was to come.

  Folks, this is how we should be.  We should be intent on preparing for ourselves and not be bickering with each other.  If we minded our own business and took care of ourselves, we would be far better.  Life would be much simpler. There are great lessons to be learned and great deeds to be done.  Live happy. 

Waiting For November

  So my predawn hikes have come to a grinding halt with the discovery of yet another cottonmouth.  This one was down near the wild persimmon trees which is my regular path.  It would not be fun to step on a snake (any snake) when you cannot see to identify it.  It is a well known fact that these snakes are nocturnal and do most of their hunting at night and that includes those dark, predawn hours.  So, the early hikes will be postponed until next winter and I shall be out and about well after daylight, in the meantime.

  Hiking before the sun rises above the pines on the opposite shore has always been a favorite thing of mine.  It gives me time to soak up my surroundings without being interrupted by other human life.  I can become one with the Bayou, so to speak.  I can breathe in the tranquility that only a swamp can provide.  I shall miss "my" time but it is best to think safety first.

  These photos show the peacefulness of that quiet time before the sun rises.  There are only a few minutes in which the world is calm as such.  Come November, I shall be out again.

Mysterious Bayou

     Just after what would have been daybreak, Mark and I headed to the pier on our usual hike about the place.  There was no sunrise as it was foggy.  In fact, it was so foggy that our jackets soon became coated with a fine layer of water.  Our footsteps were muffled by the wet mulch as we padded lightly down the hillside.  Then, we had to be careful not to slip and slide on the new pier boards.  One misstep and we would have been down in the mucky marsh.  This is to my liking, however, as it seems our sounds are not easily picked up on by the critters.  They, too, are out and about taking full advantage of the silencing of the fog.

  Moe, the Great Blue Heron, was using the fog to help him catch his breakfast.  He was able to stand motionless in the shallows without casting a shadow.  Minnows and baby mullet were not able to see him!  I watched as the bird snagged several nice fish in just a few moments.  

  The fog works both for and against critters.  The fog heightens critters' ability to catch a scent of another animal but the muffling effect can make detecting the whereabouts of that critter difficult.  Being as most hunt by catching a glimpse of motion, if a predator or prospective prey sits motionless, it is almost impossible to be seen. I have had animals literally walk right up to me before actually realizing I was there.  They knew I was in the area but finding me was a different story.  It all adds to the mystery of the Bayou!

  This morning's fog soon turned to a heavy rain which lasted the entire day.   More rain is to come and then a cold spell for a few days.  I am in hopes that the "wintry mix" will stay north of the Bayou as it could wreak havoc on the gardens.  This, however, is typical February weather here so the critters and I have both learned to live with our ups and downs.  Fog, rain, cold...repeat.

Stay Warm

 Several weeks ago, I pondered the fact of how inclement weather causes problems for critters especially birds.  Small song birds can hunker down in protected places but it is often hard for huge, lanky herons to find shelter.  They have to deal with it the best they can.  With the wintry mix wafting in over the Bayou tonight and tomorrow, things can get messy for critters.  Most will seek shelter of some sort.  Against the advice of Son, I added a wee bit of Spanish moss to the hanging fern in hopes that it would insulate the sweet wren that spends the night in her old nest.  Perhaps all of her children will pay a visit back home and snuggle in with dear, old mom but just in case she is alone, I tried to help.  The covered arbor will at least keep her dry.

  Those herons and egrets will have to go it alone, however.  There is not much I can do to make their lives any easier.  Today was cold.  This morning, the wind was blustery, temperatures just above freezing and a slight mist was falling.  It was just after daybreak when firewood gathering began.  While I was hauling a load up the hillside, I noticed a lone Great Blue Heron standing belly-deep in the icy waters of the Bay.  The bird was hunched over as if it was really feeling this weather in a bad way.   It was trying to catch breakfast but obviously no fish were within range.  Poor fellow.  I felt as if I needed to help but there is not much I could do.  The pier was damaged yet again in the storm last week and, personally, I am in no shape to be throwing the net.  My heart ached for the heron...all the herons...all the birds...all the critters.  Stay warm, Critter Friends, stay warm.

  

Leaving Footsteps

   Early this afternoon, I headed to the pier to see if I could be of some use to Son who was working on the pier.  The repairs to the massive hurricane damage are time consuming and labor intensive.  At best, I could perhaps be a gofer and fetch needed tools or planks for him.  Since my help was not needed at the moment, I took advantage of the low, low tide to do a bit of "mud-searching".  I love to see what lies beneath the murky waters of the Bay!  Come wintertime with its north winds, the tide goes far out and unveils any number of oddities.  This afternoon, I found footsteps!

The resident Great Blue Heron had recently searched this area for tiny fish.  It left behind a clear set of tracks.  It was those tracks that got me pondering things today.  We, like that bird, leave behind tracks or footprints wherever we go.  These footprints are not just left in the mud or sand but in everybody's life in our day to day business.  Our attitudes can leave some pretty heavy marks.  It is highly important that we review our paths and see what type of footprints we leave behind.  Will we be remembered as someone who stepped lightly and with care or will our footprints leave behind hurt?  Being kind, generous and loving will allow others to remember our footprints with fond thoughts.

  Folks, be kind.  It never hurt anyone to truly care about others.  In these trying times, our footprints can say a lot about us.  Take care to not trod heavily upon the hearts of anyone.  Be happy.

Catch Your Own Meal!

  Several years ago, a young Great Blue Heron sort of adopted us.  The bird, who we named "Moe", would come to the pier to beg for handouts.  Menhaden and small mullet were his favorites but he was not adverse to gobbling up any fish that happened to be caught in the net.  Several times, I actually fretted over the fact that Moe stole a catfish.  He swallowed the fish whole...sharp spines and all!  We actually got to know Moe really well and was able to handfeed the bird.  Then, Moe went missing.  I worried that perhaps one of the alligators had caught him or perhaps the fox that is on constant patrol of the marshes.  For months, I did not see my friend which made me sorrowful.  I missed the interaction with the bird.

  After almost a year, I began to notice a large male heron around the area.  I knew that youngster Moe had been battling for territory and figured that the older, larger male had won rights to the Bayou.  Moe must have moved on the other areas in search of a mate and suitable nesting sites.  Then...Moe!  The large male was Moe!  How do I know?  There is no mistaking the friendship.  The large male has no fear of me and will often look as if he is begging me to throw the net for menhaden.  Sorry, Moe!!  I truly wish I could but until the pier is fully repaired, I dare not venture to the end.  You will have to fend for yourself!  

  

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.

Not Very Photogenic

  It is a well known fact that I tote my camera just about everywhere I go.  It has been said that I take far too many photographs.  It is also true that my subjects are usually critters.  Indeed!  Very few of my photographs involve people.  Why?  Well, since I am not a fan of being in photographs, I respect the feelings of others who may be the same way.  I have yet to find a photograph of myself that I like.  There is a term for not liking to be photographed.  Supposedly I am "camera conscious".  Who knew it even had a name??  Sometimes, critters can be highly photogenic but they, too, have their bad days or are just camera shy.  Occasionally, a photo of one of my bayou critter friends is so amusing that it needs to be shared simply to bring a smile.   Perhaps the critter would not agree, but they probably do not worry about such trivial things.  They are too busy surviving.  

  This afternoon, a young heron visited the pier.  At first glance, I assumed that my friend, Moe, was asking for a handout but this was not so.  The bird was much younger (as evident by the spotted belly) and much skinnier than Moe.  Well, skinny birds need to be fed so the net was called into action once again.  This time, I was throwing the thing as Mark was not there.  The bird was happy when I caught 6 nice mullet for his lunch.  Once I put down the net, I, of course, picked up the camera.  The bird was obliging and let me get a few nice photographs. 

  One photograph, however, did not do justice to the bird.  The poor thing looks emaciated, oddly shaped and slightly deranged!  The heron would probably cringe if it saw the photograph!  Sorry, my friend, but I just had to share with the world!  

Moe Is Hungry!

  Late this afternoon, Mark and I slipped out the door to get a bit of fresh air.   It had been drizzling rain most of the day so this was our chance to escape the confines of the Little Bayou House.  Our hike started back by the canebrake and took us the long way around the marsh to the pier.  Ahh...my favorite place to be!  As we walked down the length of the pier, a friend happily awaited our arrival.  Moe, the Great Blue Heron, patiently sat atop one of the pier posts.  As we neared. the bird never moved.  I was within an arm's reach, all the while snapping photos, and he just sat posing for me.  After our photo shoot, I asked Mark to fetch the net so we could reward our sweet friend.

  Mark caught six or eight small mullet and Mr. Moe happily gulped them down.  Then on the last throw, Mark caught several small mullet and one that was rather large.  Well, Moe scooped up one tiny fish then made a leap to grab the big one.  Oh, was he happy!  His belly would be full tonight!

  Mr. Moe struggled to hold onto the large mullet as he flew to the marsh.  He knew better than to try to eat the big fish on the pier.  There was a chance that the fish would flip out of his mouth and back into the water.  In the marsh, there are huge mats of dead reeds that have been tumbled by the tide.  These mats make for a fine place for the birds to dine.  If they drop a fish, it merely falls on the mat and they can readily grab it again.  Moe is smart.  Too smart.  He has figured out that we will feed him and also that the marsh mats make an ideal dining table.  I wonder what he will learn next!  I love this bird.

Friends Make Every Day Better

  I will say one thing about the winters in the Deep South.  There are none.  Sure, we get an occasional freeze but mostly we have rain and fog and heat.  The temperatures for the past few weeks feel more like June than February.  The days fluctuate between rain and fog....most of the time...both at the same time.  This makes for a sticky mess when it comes to wading through the ankle deep leaves that you wish you had raked back in November.  I literally have to de-leaf the old dog after his potty stroll and use a brush to rake the leaves matted in Ms. Nycto's fur.  Word of warning....never let a long haired cat out in this type weather unless you want her coming back inside with about a bushel of leaves stuck to her.

  This lack of winter and the pea-soup thick fog has one good thing about it.  The critters are out and about making for some interesting sights.  When I do manage to take a break from caring for the old dog, it does not take long to find some critter friends.  The fog muffles the footsteps so "sneaking" up on these friends is quite easy.  But, then again, they can probably sneak up on me just as quickly.  

  This afternoon, I ventured to the pier to find my good friend, Moe, the heron.  This great blue heron has been coming regularly since he was a youngster and always wants a handout. Today, however, I had to tell him some sad news. "Sorry, Moe.  I have no net handy to catch your supper.  You will have to fend for yourself!"  In the photo, you can see just how foggy it was.  When I took the photo, I was a mere six feet from the bird but fog still blurred the vision.   Although Moe was not pleased with me being empty-handed, he lingered on the pier making my short outing a pleasure.   Sometimes seeing an old familiar face can make things seem so much better.  Thanks, Moe.  It was good seeing you!

Following The Dog's Lead

  For the past two mornings, Mr. PJ has been a bit reluctant to do his morning business far down the hill.  We usually take a hike along the marsh edge until he comes to his favorite spot.  He then exits the path in a small clearing and does his thing.  Yesterday and today, however, he has stubbornly tried to go back to the Little Bayou House long before we get to the clearing.  He swerves, goes around me and tries to retrace his steps.  He just plain does not want to go down the path.  Later in the day, he has no problem with following the same route.  Now I am wondering what he senses just beyond the next curve.  Our hikes are early morn and darkness still lingers beneath the heavy oaks.  The path is lined with underbrush and vision is often obscured by both shadows and trees.  Is there something lurking there?  Is something just waiting for us to haphazardly walk into range?  I have no idea.  Both days, I have given in to his better judgment and we have returned to the house.  

  This morning's hike did have me a bit antsy even before we reached the "dreaded" spot.  I kept having the feeling that I was being watched.  My uneasiness coupled with that of the old dog, was enough to make me start really looking for the "culprit".  After a few moments, I found my "staring eyes".  A great blue heron was looking down upon us from a tall pine.  I figured it was his stare that sent chills up my spine but this was far from where PJ has his senses alerted to something unseen.  The heron was not the cause of the old dog's wariness.  Something else was just down the path!

  For now, I am thinking that the dog and I should wait until the sun rises over the pines before we venture too far into the dark path.  There must be a good reason for him to be hesitant.  Mr. PJ is old and not as steady as he once was.  While I know he would try his best to defend me from whatever "evil" lurks in the shadows, there is no need for him to be stressed.  Whether this unseen foe is a coyote, bobcat or some other "predator", tempting fate is not a good thing.  Mr. PJ will just get to sleep a bit longer on these upcoming colder mornings.  I am thankful for his alertness and for his stubbornness!  Good job, Old Boy!

Someone is lurking in the shadows!

  During my early morning hikes around the Bayou, there are some pretty wild sights to be seen.  Critters are out in full force at that time as the nocturnal ones are heading to bed and the diurnal ones are shaking themselves awake.  Sometimes when I make the mistake of heading out too early, the shadows are tremendously dark and I ponder what might be lurking there.  Since the old dog, Mr. PJ, is not strong enough to be any defense, it is prudent that care is taken.  There is no reason to put him in a dire situation trying to protect me. 

  This morning, the sun was not cooperating about rising.  A thick cloud cover made things a bit shadier than norm.  Sounds from the Bayou were exaggerated causing a bit of angst but my hike was not to be hampered.  At one point, the red sky reflected in the last remaining tide pool in a nigh on empty Bayou.  My position put me in the right spot to see just what was wading about in the water.  Right in the middle of that reflection stood my friend, the heron.  The great blue heron was fishing for breakfast before dawn.

  The heron knew I was just a few feet from him but he made no effort to fly.  He was aware of the fact that I could not get to him without some doing since there was a small strip of marsh that included lots of brambles between us.  The bird felt safe and continued his hunt for breakfast and I went on about my merry way hunting for my next adventure.

Oh, the humidity!

  I have found it chilly for the past few days.  The temperatures  are not bad but the humidity is definitely trying to make us feel winter here.  We have had a good solid rain for two days now our next step of winter, fog, has arrived.  In the mornings, I cannot see the pier from the front steps.  It is almost as if the world ends about seventy-five feet in front of me.  A solid white wall blocks out anything beyond that point.  It is that fog that chills me to the bone.  At night, it creeps into the Little Bayou House like some thief ready to rob us blind but instead of taking anything, it leaves a certain stickiness on everything.  There is not much we can do about it other than deal with it.  Dehumidifiers cringe, shake and cower when meeting our type humidity.

 Early this morning, I took the old dog out for his morning stroll.  Since the pace has slowed to that of an elderly snail, I have plenty of time to photograph oddities along the way.  Once we neared the pier, a Great Blue Heron caught my eye.  Moe had come back to the pier expecting breakfast but none was proffered.  Not only did he go hungry, he had to hunker down against the fog. Poor Moe!  He looked downright miserable!

  Winter mornings complete with fog should be a boon to the herons.  The north wind exposes the mudflats and the fog shields the bird from being seen by its prey.  They can catch plenty of little mullet by just waiting.  This same fog does present its share of problems, however.  The drippy mess muffles all footsteps so larger predators can stalk the herons without a problem.  Coyotes and bobcats would love to dine upon a sizable bird like a heron.  

  Moe was either being lazy by staying on the pier or was being wary of his surroundings.  Either way, he was not catching any breakfast by sitting on the pier.  The old dog and I merely passed him by as we were ready to get out of the fog.  No handouts for the herons today.

LONG!

  The other day, Son and I were talking about the herons that visit the Bayou.  He made the statement that their long necks seem to be ineffectual and far out of proportion to the rest of the body.  "It would not take much to snap that neck.  Just like the spindly legs, they are almost a hazard."  I imagine if a predator tried to overpower a heron, the neck and legs would be the first attack and, true enough, it would not take much to break either.  Still, the length of legs and neck do come in handy at times. (This being said by a short person!)  The heron is a wader.  The long legs help to keep the body up out of the water and allows the bird shuffle along the bottom.  That long neck allows the bird to see down into the water and also lets it snatch minnows that would otherwise be just out of reach.  Both of these lanky features do, indeed, help the bird survive.

  When Moe came to visit the other day, I was able to observe first hand the usefulness of these long, birdy features.  At first, Moe was a bit leery of coming too close to the old dog, Mr. PJ.  Knowing the bird was hungry, I tossed a few menhaden up on the pier post so Moe could dine a bit more comfortably.  To my surpirse, the heron flew to the pier although he knew that the minnows were on the post.  Those long legs and that long neck were put to use.  Moe was able to stand on the decking and still snatch a minnow from the 4 ft tall post.  He ate a few minnows in this manner before flying to the top of the post to finish his meal.

  I went back to the Little Bayou House and called to Son. "Check these photographs!"  Once he studied the pictures, he said "I stand corrected.  The legs and neck are useful but still appear to be quite fragile and cumbersome."  I have to agree.  They do but Moe was happy with himself, regardless.