Giving Up Is Not An Option

   Early this morning, I headed to the little Frog Pond to see if our resident watersnake had returned.  Since I could not find her, my thoughts turned to other things...frogs!  The green treefrogs and American toads were singing their beautiful songs last night so the pond was full!  One, in particular, caught my eye as it was far up on one of the grasses.  That was big for a green treefrog!  I admired it for a bit before ambling back to the porch.  As I went passed the storeroom, another critter caught my eye.  A cicada was struggling to keep ahold of the siding as it morphed from its underground phase to its full adult stage.  The poor thing had half pushed its way out of its shed and was dangling precariously backwards!  Its grip on the siding had failed.  The poor thing was not able to right itself from this awkward angle causing it to not be able to finish its job of pulling from the old exoskeleton.  It was stuck.  While this situation was bad enough for the critter, I knew if it fell, things would be drastically worse.  A cicada has to hang vertically for its wings to form and dry. 

  Just as I was pondering whether I should go against Son's advice of never interfering with nature, the poor cicada dropped to the ground.  Oh, geez!  It had fallen right near an ant nest!  Poor little fellow!  Without thinking about that sage advice, I put my hand down next to the critter and allowed it to cling to me.  Now what??  It was time to find a safe place for our friendly critter.  Ahh, yes!  The small, potted quince tree would have to suffice as a temporary "hospital" for the bug.

  The little guy seemed well pleased with its new location and clung to the bark like a boss!  I kept watch on the progress and offered the occasional "moral support" that was needed to finish the process of molting.  It was an amazing experience to watch as the wings unfurled and then were inflated (yes, they inflate) then harden.  This took about an hour. During the hardening, I was a tad worried about its right wing but, in the end, the wing was normal. The adult cicada was gorgeous! Soon, it was able to take flight!  I look forward to hearing its call (or rather the calls of hundreds in the treetops).  I guess I will just have to take it that one of those calls is from the rescued critter.

Is He Helping?

   Mr. Bat and I arise well before dawn.  He is usually the first to come out of dreamland and, then, he nudges me until I, too, am fully awake.  As a cat, his motive is food.  He wants breakfast!  My motive is to cede to his wishes and open a can of cat food then head to the kitchen to brew a pot of strong coffee. Since the sun does not rise at this hour, I try to find projects to fill the next two hours.  Things have to stay quiet as the menfolk here are still asleep.  Art projects are usually my go-to entertainment.  Bat?  He usually goes back to sleep leaving me to my own accord.  

  This morning, I had a whim to create something utilizing an old glass tabletop from a dilapidated outdoor set.  The idea was to do some reverse glass painting on the bottom then hang the piece in the window so it appeared to be a stained glass piece.  First on the agenda was to make a paper pattern which would make the art work far easier than free-handing it on the glass itself.  Drawing on paper is the way to go, folks!  Anyway...as usual...my work was started on the floor.  The tabletop was set, paper was fitted in the top and the artwork was to begin!  Mr. Bat had other ideas...

  As with any cat, curiosity got the best of him.  Then...as with any cat, he decided that the piece was there for his pure enjoyment.  My artwork came to a halt as the cat sat on the paper then decided a nap was in order.  Well, so much for getting anything accomplished this morning!  Everyone knows that you NEVER disturb a cat that has chosen a special napping spot. Oh, if I was not so fond of this little buddy, I would get so much more done!  Then, again, maybe he thought he was helping.

A Little Help, Please!

  When one thinks of turtles, thoughts of slow moving, slow thinking critters come to mind.  Not many folks think that these critters have feelings and can, in their own way, ask for help.  I wish I could have videoed an encounter this morning.  It was heart-warming, to say the least.  

  As usual, I made my rounds through the small gardens at daybreak.  I could tell that the weather was not going to play nicely with the plants so I had intentions of giving every plant I could reach a good soaking with the water hose.  These plans were waylaid for a bit as I found a friend in need at the garden gate and, I must say, this friend truly asked nicely.  A small box turtle was waiting for me at the gate to the veggie patch.  There, a few scraggly tomato plants and a couple of pepper plants are all that are hanging on by a thread.  I bid my friend a good morning and asked if she needed any help.  The turtle immediately turned about face and went into the garden.  I followed like a dutiful servant.  She headed straight to a tomato plant that had a couple of ripe tomatoes still dangling on the higher branches.  To get her point across, she reached her front foot up on the tomato crate and looked at me longingly.  Yep, this turtle just literally asked for a tomato!  I grinned and promptly pulled off the largest, broke it in half and laid it on the ground in front of the turtle.  She immediately started munching the red tomato.  I could tell she was one happy turtle. 

  I left her in peace and started watering the plants.  After a bit, I noticed that she was not only enjoying the tomato breakfast but seemed to love the cooling water that was tricking around her.  Well...I might as well water the turtle, too!  She was blissful and seemed to fully appreciate my kindness.  After completing the task at hand, I turned to see Friend Turtle nudging along the fence line as she tried to get to the other side.  Ok...time to "aid the turtle" again.  I scooped her up and set her on the other side of the fence.  Freedom!  She scuttled off into the cooling shade under the fig trees.  There, she nestled down into the (now wet) leaves ready to wait out the scorching daylight hours.  Sweet thing!  It made me feel good to offer a helping hand.  Be kind to all, folks.  Just be kind.

Brave Little Turtle!

   Life is far too fragile and precious for any of us to not lend a helping hand when any creature is in need.  It saddens me to know there are those who refuse to rescue critters.  I, for one, have no problem "diving right in" to help.  Although, in this case, the diving part was not needed.  The rescue was needed, however.

  Mark has some crab traps at the end of the pier.  He faithfully baits these things and waits.  The otters faithfully eat the bait while that waiting is done.  Consequently, not many crabs are enticed into the traps.  Other critters are, at times.  This morning, a hapless turtle had made its way into the trap.  While I am not up on my turtle identifications, Pop always called these "Cooters" so the name stuck...Cooter it is. The little turtle was about the size of my hand and was as calm as any "stranded" animal could possibly be.  Mark wanted to just dump the poor critter onto the pier but I insisted on being a tad more gentle.  The crawler (open spot) in the crab trap was large enough for me to poke my arm inside.  The turtle looked a bit uneasy at the approaching hand but I think it realized I was there to help.  It gave no struggle as I lifted it from the trap and sat it on the pier.  Wow!  It was a pretty, little thing!  After a few moments and a couple of photographs, I slid the turtle back into the water so it could go on its merry way.

  I often wonder what the wild critters think when I am rescuing them.  Do they truly understand that this huge creature (me) is just trying to help or do they go into panic mode and purely freeze on instinct?  I like to think they are familiar enough with me that they understand there is no need to fear my helping hand.  Folks, be kind to all critters.  Sometimes, they need a helping hand just as we do. Just be kind.

I Was Too Late

   I try to rescue as many critters as I can whether they be domesticated (throwaway pets) or wild.  I will go out of my way to gather up an injured or lost animal.  All of our pets have been ones that others have tossed out car windows or were going to kill because they did not want them any more.  As for wild critters, I just recently saved a cicada from ants but, in the past,  baby mockingbirds from dogs, a catfish from being stranded in a puddle and newborn skinks from flood waters.  The skinks were most likely my most dramatic rescue as that was done during the midst of a tropical storm.   All in all, rescuing critters is pretty satisfying.  You just feel good helping.

  This morning, however, that rescue did not happen.  As usual, I was up before dawn and down on the pier awaiting the sunrise.  As soon as the sky started to lighten in the east, a fluttering in the water caught my eye. Something was struggling to keep from drowning.  Oh, wow!  Time to drop the camera and help a friend in need.  Grabbing a long pole, I tried to gently lift a beautiful swallowtail butterfly from the water.  It took a few tries as the insect kept slipping off of the pole.  Finally, I had it!  Whew!  That was tricky.  

  The butterfly was hauled up to shore and placed on a pier pole that had washed in on the hurricane.  The sweet thing needed to dry out and rest a bit.  The warm sunshine would help it greatly.  Sad to say, the butterfly perished.  I was not on the pier soon enough to save it.  It obviously had met with some predator as its wings were tattered.  Poor thing!  I hate when rescues just do not work out as planned.  

Once Again...Be The Helping Hand

   So Hurricane Ida decided to slide on into Louisiana to unleash her wrath.  The good people there are suffering.  If you have never had to deal with a powerful hurricane, watch a few of the videos that are abundant on the Internet...then imagine that being spread for hundreds and hundreds of miles.  The force of the wind and water is beyond comprehension. The devastation is mindboggling.  These storms are definitely something to contend with and are not something to ever take lightly.  Here on the Bayou, we prepared just in case Ida took a swing our way.  We are so very thankful that it did not.  We got the outskirts of the storm which did give us a bit of wind and copious rainfall.  In fact, there was enough rainfall in Mississippi to cause major flooding.  Roads are collapsing and houses are submerged.  A lot of folks were just not ready.  The Little Bayou House did not see damage and there is very little in the way of cleanup.  

  It was during that cleanup today that I came across one of the other type victims of storms and floods.  While picking up debris, a slight movement caught my eye.  It is important to notice ALL movement after hurricanes since moccasins can easily be balled up in the debris.  This, however, was no moccasin.  A cicada nymph had come from underground on its way to becoming an adult.  The poor thing had to dig through soggy ground only to emerge right in the midst of fire ants that had been dislocated due to the storm surge.  Fire ants are friends to no one and would have made short work of the cicada as it had no way to escape.  Cicadas at this stage are slow moving and almost clumsy.  I just could not stand by and let the poor thing die such a painful death.

  Knowing cicadas usually try to climb oak trees at this stage, I gently lifted the creature and let it rest in the palm of my hand.  The nearest oak tree was also covered in ants so that would have been a poor choice of morphing spot.  The cicada nymph stayed on my hand until I found a tree free of ants. There, I released the insect.  The critter slowly left my hand for the bark of the tree. It seemed happy.  I watched for a while as it made its way up the oak tree.  

  It made me feel good that I had helped the cicada.  I am sure the critter was appreciative.  Folks, if you can spare anything, there are numerous foundations that are collecting items to help the good folks that have been so hurt by Hurricane Ida.  Please pray, donate, lend a helping hand or just send encouraging words their way.  Trust me.  You will be appreciated. A little help goes a long way.  Be kind, folks.

Tranquility Among The Flowers

   There is one spot in the Small Gardens that makes me smile with every passing.  While it is pretty with the zinnias, day lilies, ruby lilies and other flowers, my joy comes simply by something else that lurks under the blooms.  The old raccoon that comes to visit each afternoon, takes naps under the zinnias, at times.  She is old, tired and obviously has problems seeing.  Her visits are daily as she comes to eat the spilled birdseed.  Thinking perhaps that is all the sweet thing has to eat, I have taken to bringing her "treats" when I see her.  Cereal is her favorite but fruit runs a second best.  The sweet little thing has been attacked by the younger, more robust coons so now I sit with her until she gets her belly full.  Once she ambles back to the zinnia bed, I feel she is at least somewhat safe.

  My encounters with the old coon have become a highlight of each day.  She comes, we "visit" and then she goes on her merry way.  I refuse to make a pet out of her simply because it is important for her to stay wild and free.  My help comes only through the feeding but, if she wants to hide in the flower gardens, I am surely not going to refuse her the luxury.  Maybe she is just too tired to go back to the marshes or woods.  Maybe she is one that was pushed from her home just west of us where the tractors clear cut almost every tree.   Maybe she just finds tranquility here like I do.

  Sometimes, it is not the appearance of things that makes them beautiful.  Sometimes, it is the help rendered.  The Small Gardens are lovely simply because they have become a haven of sorts.  Be kind to the critters.  Every once in a while, they need a helping hand.

Beautiful Music!

   After spending the morning in the kitchen making plum jam and the afternoon in the laundry room painting the trim work, I figured it was about time to make my escape from the confines of the Little Bayou House.  While I love my little house, I also love the freedom to roam the Bayou.  So, out I went, camera in hand and a need to feel the breeze on my face.  

  My hike did not get too far before I heard a weird "buzzing" or "rattling" sound.  The noise was quite loud.  It stopped me in my tracks.  What was that?  I slowly searched the ground which was rather difficult since I was on a mulched pathway in dappled light.  Ok, so something was in distress here and I could not find it.  Stop, listen...find.  Sure enough, I found.  A hapless cicada had fallen on the pathway and its wings were buzzing against the dry mulch.  The sound echoed making it much louder than I would have expected.  Reaching down, I scooped up the critter and attempted to put it on the arbor frame.  The cicada struggled to stay put.  Kerplop!  Down it went again.  Ok, so perhaps something was amiss with my friend.  Time to check the welfare of this fine creature.

  Sure enough, a fine silken web was wrapped around one wing.  Poor critter!  Bug in hand, I carefully removed the spiderweb from the wing and legs.  The cicada sat calmly in my hand while I worked.  Once it was clear, I held it back against the arbor and the creature climbed carefully up for a few inches before resting.  Goodness, it felt good to help!  This evening, the cicadas are calling loudly and I cannot help but smile thinking that one is surely my friend.  What beautiful music that is to hear!

A Little Extra Bird Seed

  Since all of the properties to our west are being clear-cut to make room for more houses, the critters have no place to go.  No one ever thinks of that when they build (or buy) their new houses.  Hundreds of critters are displaced or die.  Many, many are crushed beneath the large tractors that do the clearing and many, many others flee their homes leaving behind their babies.   They have no choice.  It is saddening and I know it is just a matter of time before we, like the critters, are pushed out of our home.  

  Back to the critters, though, as they are what is important, at the moment.  The poor little things have not only lost their homes but have also lost their "hunting grounds".  Even those that we think of as non-predatory are suffering.   My brother and I have taken to putting out extra seed for the birds and table-scraps for whatever will eat them.   For a while, I was bothered that the squirrels would eat the sunflower seeds and chase the birds from the seed bench.  Then I realized that fat, happy squirrels do not raid the peach and plum trees of their fruit!  Fat and happy squirrels are being fed trice daily now!  

  I have come to the same conclusion that Pop did, so many years ago.  If critters raid the gardens, you just have to plant a bit more the next year.  They have to eat, too.  Although Pop often hunted and fished for food, he never once needlessly killed a critter.  The man had a kind heart.  I am glad that I learned from the best!  Help them...don't hate them.

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.

  

Time to Fold!

   While I normally love winter and its attempt at being cold here, this year, I am feeling it.  I feel cold.  I am cold.  Since I am feeling it, I pondered if the critters are doing the same.  This afternoon, I watched as a Great Egret perched itself on one of the pier posts.  Today was warm but how does that long, lanky bird keep warm during the cold spells?  Short, stocky birds simply find a place out of the wind and fluff out their feathers.  They tuck their heads deep into the downy feathers and squat on their legs and feet.  The airspace between the feathers acts as insulation keeping them warm.  The egrets and herons do not have that much of a tucking ability. Think about those long legs and that thin neck.  Where would you tuck that many skinny body parts?

  Egrets do tuck their necks into a "S' fold and lay it flat on their chest.  The feathers fluff out to form a cushiony blanket.  The legs are often folded back and the bird can squat on them enough to provide some warmth when resting.  When hunting or stalking food, the bird stands knee deep in water and is motionless.  To remedy that, the birds have a special system of arteries and veins that literally work to warm each other.  The blood pumped through is enough to help the bird keep from freezing while it wades in the water.  All herons also have special feathers that keep growing.  The tips of these feathers break off to produce something called powder down or feather dust.  This dust helps to waterproof the feathers so the bird can stay dry.  Being dry goes a long way in helping with warmth.  Most egrets will also seek out a sheltered place to spend the night or during particularly rough weather.  

  Later this week, we are predicted to have almost tropical storm force winds, lots of rain and generally stormy weather that is supposed to end with a cold front sliding into the area.  My critter friends will be using all of their survival skills during this time.  While the herons and egrets will still have to hunt for their breakfast, a shot of birdseed will be put out to help the songbirds.  Folks, be kind to wild critters.  They do not have the cozy warm homes that we do.  Leaving a brush pile or thick hedge helps the birds stay warm.  Be kind!

Ms. Toady and the Old King

  One good thing that has come from my being confined to the outdoor space of the Small Gardens.  It has made me aware of all the special things that are often hidden in plain sight.  In just the past four weeks of my realm being greatly diminished from the entire eight acres to a mere garden plot, I have discovered many interesting things.  Perhaps it is more the idea that I am appreciating things that I overlooked.  Small things are now stupendous.  There is not a day that goes by that I am not spellbound by an otherwise "normal" thing.

  Today, I found a toad.  While that may not seem to be earthshaking to others, the toad kept me fully entertained for nigh on a half hour.  Some may find that a tad ridiculous but, since my time is plentiful, the half hour was well spent.  I pondered the life of a toad...this toad...Ms. Toady.  The critter lives in the roots of an old oak tree that stands just outside the pergola that surrounds the french doors.  The tree is dying so many of its large roots are hollow.  In fact, the entire tree is hollow which makes for perfect dwelling places for so many critters.  The toad shares its root "cave" with a lovely old skink.  The skink was, at one time, the "King Skink" but he has been ousted by an upstart.  So, the toad very kindly let the Old King share her abode.  The two get along divinely and seem to have a great working partnership.  The toad, being younger, ventures further to hunt for prey allowing the Old King to stay near the doorway to their root home.  Also, the toad is active at night and wishes to settle in for rest during the heat of the day.  The skink is diurnal so vacates the root except when an escape is necessary.  It seems to be a win/win situation for the pair.

  Early this morning, I sat on the little foot bridge crossing the Pebble Creek.  The creek empties into the Puddle Pond with a delightful sound of water dripping over the ledge.  As I sat there enjoying life, I noticed the toad hippity-hopping from the Pebble Creek.  She was heading back to the root home for the day.  I thought of how her night had been busy catching the night bugs..many of which linger around the gardens.  Her belly was fat so pickings must have been good.  It gave me a sense of satisfaction knowing that the little toad was well fed and had a cool place to spend the heat of the day.  She and the Old King have an unusual friendship but it works.  I wish them both well.

A Little Help From Mother Nature

  I have to admit that if someone or something ever wishes to step in and do a bit of yard work around here, I am all up and down appreciative!  Keeping up with the housework and the nigh on five acres (I do not do the woods) of yard work, is a full time job.  Sometimes it is strenuous while other times it is merely relaxing.  Cutting grass is relaxing even though I push a lawnmower for about five hours straight.  Digging out the Puddle Pond and gutter drain is strenuous.  (Digging the small pond was today's chore.  Digging the gravel drain (47 ft) is tomorrow's.)  Good thing about all this hard work, is that it gives plenty of exercise for an old lady and, then when it is complete, it gives a fine sense of satisfaction.

  One thing that I am thankfully NOT having to do is dig out a large oak stump that sits in the east garden.  I should have done this several years ago when the tree was cut but...it is still there. Now, I find that my procrastination is paying off big time!  I shall not have to struggle with the shovel!  The stump is being removed for me.  Oh, how I adore helping hands!

  Mother Nature has decided that I was moving a tad too slow with the stump removal so she has stepped in to help me.  This morning, I noticed that several large mushrooms growing on the roots and side of the oak tree remnants.  These mushrooms are helping to decay the wood so it will not be long before the stump is gone!   Ahh, yes!  The help is appreciated no matter from where or how it comes.  This is one less task for me to do.  Now...pardon me while I go shovel gravel.  The struggle is real.

Storms, Gardens and Birds

  It is THAT time of year again and every eye around this area is watching the Gulf of Mexico.  While the storm, Cristobal, is supposed to not strengthen too much, it is still threatening to dump copious amounts of rain on us.  Yes, the landfall is supposed to be in Louisiana but that puts us on that east side.  Anyone who knows anything about hurricanes knows that is NOT where you want to be.  Of course, like other storms, our little area will cope even without the media attention.  Always have...always will.  We prepare.  We ride out the storm.  We carry on. 

  My one big beef with this storm is that it is coming so early in the season.  Why is that a problem?  Well, my garden is at its peak right now and any high winds, torrential downpours or flying debris will wreak havoc on the plants.  Seriously, I may as well call it a season and not worry about any more fresh veggies.  Thankfully, I was able to home can plenty for our winter stock already so we are good to go.  

  Today, as I was wandering about making a few minor storm preparations, I stopped to admire the healthy plants and thought how fortunate we are to be able to "uproot" ourselves and hunker down inside the Little Bayou House.  The plants and critters do not have that luxury.  They take the brunt of  the storm.  In fact, just outside the front door (south side), a little wren is sitting on five eggs in the hanging fern.  The tiny bird will not give up her nest if at all possible even if that old basket gets to banging around uncontrollably.  This fretted me something fierce so I secured her little home along with ours.  Armed with some strong wire, I reinforced the hanging chains and ran guy wires from the sides of the basket to the main posts.  The basket barely wiggled now so hopefully, my little friend will be safe.  Son and I have a difference in opinions about my efforts.  He says I am interfering with the course of nature.  I say I am trying to help a friend.  Either way, what is done..is done.  Stay safe, folks, stay safe. (Stay safe, Little Wren, stay safe!)

The Helping Hand...uhh...Talon...Beak...

  Occasionally, something occurs on the Bayou that truly saddens me.  Recently, an osprey was seen acting rather strange.  The bird appeared to be exhausted from flying but with each attempt to land in the old pine, a struggle would ensue and the bird would take flight again.  My first thought that something was in the tree that was prohibiting the bird from landing.  Maybe a large snake was there as rat snakes are known to even be in the tops of the tall pines.  Since I had nothing better to do, I sat down and watched the osprey.  Again and again, it made the attempt to alight in the tree to gain some much needed rest but each attempt was aborted.  Fatigue is not a good thing when you are in flight.

  Soon, the osprey flew low overhead and I was able to view the full bird.  It became quite apparent what was ailing the poor bird.  Evidently, the bird had tried to catch a fish but that fish was its undoing.   Wrapped around the osprey's legs was a fishing line with cork still attached.  The bird could not use its legs!  My heart started breaking for the bird.  What was it going to do??  Ospreys depend on those strong legs and talons for more than just perching in a tree.  Without the use of its legs, an osprey cannot fish for food.  I sat fretting over the bird and trying to figure how it could be helped.

  It was not long before it became clear that my help was not needed.  The bird did a belly-flop on the shore on the other side my brother's pier. It screamed for its mate who quickly came and between the two of them, they managed to pull the line from the legs of the exhausted bird!  The tired bird took flight again and landed on her perch in the pine.  Soon her devoted mate brought her a nice size fish...WITHOUT a hook and line.  The love and care that the male osprey showed for his ladylove was amazing.  The resiliency and determination of both birds is something that should be inspirational to all humans.  I sure learn a lot from the critters around here and I am so thankful that, what could have been devastating, turned out to be truly incredible. I only wish the camera lens could have caught this feat but the distance was just too great. 

Helping The World One Turtle At A Time!

  Earlier today, I was working in the garden and Son was remodeling the shed when suddenly his work got really quiet.  Hmm, either he was pondering something difficult or had gotten distracted.  It is not like him to just quit working in the middle of a project.  After a bit, the curiosity got the best of me and I went to check on him.  Yep, he had gotten distracted...by a box turtle.  When I came through the garden gate, he was sitting on the shed deck and the little turtle was on the ground just looking up at him.  "I think she is hungry, Mom." he said.  This translated to , "Go find something for me to feed her."  I did.

  In the kitchen, there just happened to be a couple of apples sitting on the table.  Turtles like apples!  A quick slice and I was back out the door.  Son gently laid the apple within inches of the turtle's nose and she readily tried to eat.  For some reason, that turtle could not get a bite off of the chunk so Son picked up the apple and broke it into tiny pieces.  As soon as he went to place a piece down, the turtle came forward and took it from his fingers.  He snickered a bit and got another piece.  Same thing.  The turtle came forward and gently took the piece.  She tried to eat it all but dropped some.  In the meantime, he had another piece in hand and she left the morsel on the ground for the one in his hand.  Several times, she would patiently wait just looking at him until he broke another piece. Son sat hand-feeding a turtle for ten minutes.  One thing that I noticed about the turtle was that she was very, very careful not to bite Son as she took the morsel.  She cared enough not to harm the very one helping her. 

  While this may not seem like a momentous event to most folks, I found it endearing and appropriate for the day.  It is Earth Day, after all!  Be kind, folks.  It only takes a moment and could make a big difference.  Let's heal our old world.  It sure needs every helping hand it can get.

A "Shoulder" To Lean On....

  Every now and again, even the toughest of us needs someone with strong shoulders to "lean on".  We need the security, the reassurance, the comfort of just knowing someone is in our corner.  Those shoulders can be the big burly guy like Mark or the soft..umm...well-padded shoulders of a grandmotherly type.  The type shoulders matters not.  What matters is they are there when we need them.

  For the past two days, storms have pounded the Bayou.  We have seen hail, gale-force winds and torrential rains.  I did not need the "shoulders" for support as I love a good storm and this one fit the bill to a T.  We had all of the trappings of a squall without major damage!  That is my kind of storm!  Still, when I headed to the pier this afternoon, it was good to see that a strong "shoulder" was there when needed.  And, yes, I am speaking figuratively here as I am giving personification to part of the pier.  One of the broad pier posts was in the right spot to catch the wooden bench before the strong winds pushed it off the pier.  Had the post not been there, our bench would have gone swimming never to be seen again.  The wooden bench would have been shoved overboard and pushed away by the winds.  It has happened before!

  Everything on the pier took a beating but there is nothing that cannot be replaced or repaired.  Those "damages" are not worthy of complaint.  Instead, my thoughts are with those in the path of this system that have not been so fortunate.  Flooding, wind damage and tornadic activity wreaked havoc on some places.  They will not recover for months, if then.  Hopefully, there will be helping hands and strong shoulders for those in need.  

Friends Not Often Seen

  We usually tend to think friends are those folks who visit often.  Those folks who can drop in unannounced, linger over a cup of coffee and chat as if time is not of essence.  Sometimes, however, friends can be not often seen.  Years can pass before a unplanned event throws folks together.  Friends can pick up where they left off so long ago as if time and distance make no matter.  Then, there are friends of a different ilk.  Those are the ones that are seldom seen but make a huge impact on one's life.  It often make me wonder if those are the truest folks.  They go about life without ever expecting anything in return for the kindness they give.

  With all of this talk of friendship, you knew this writing was going to eventually turn to critters.  It all goes back to the idea that I have far more critter friends than people friends which suits me fine.  Critter friends do not dwell in drama.  Today's critter friend is one of those "rarely seen" ilk.  One may catch a fleeting glimpse of something scurrying beneath the leaves or in between grass blades but getting a long visit is often unheard of.  This morning, I had a quite lengthy visit with a Little Brown Skink.   I was honored that the critter trusted me enough to lounge near where I was sitting. It made no effort to hide nor run away even though we were inches apart.  We just sat and enjoyed each other's company.  

  What makes this a true friend is that the skink is always lending a helping hand.  This little one scurries about the leaf litter in search of small insects.  It pokes its nose under leaves or mulch seeking things such as fleas, spiders, roaches, ants and termites....all which are considered to be pests by most folks. This applies to me, as well, except for the spiders.  In my mind, spiders are good.  That said, this little friend is a friend indeed albeit one that goes unseen by most folks.  The Little Brown Skink...a hard-working friend that lends a helping hand even to those who do not appreciate it.

Glad Help Was NOT Needed!

  It appears that I fret far too much over the well being of the critters of the Bayou.  Let one become ill or injured and I am in a tizzy.  That mothering instinct falls into play and if I can help in any way, I will.  The one-eyed screech owl was fed raw chicken.  The baby gray squirrels whose mother was killed by a hawk were bottle fed.  The great blue heron that had its foot torn off was given daily rations of mullet so he would not have to struggle to hunt.  In fact, I have fed more critters than I should have.  The help has ranged from those unborn by me rescuing skink eggs from hurricane flood waters (only to have them hatch in my hands) to comforting a dying baby squirrel that had been attacked by crows.  From the beginning to end...all critters need assistance now and again so I try to be that helping hand.

  This afternoon, I took a break from cutting firewood to admire the reflections on the Bay.  With overcast skies, there was just enough light to cast gorgeous reflections on the dead calm water.  While photographing the pines across the Bayou, a great egret caught my eye.  The bird was standing on the end of the pier and made no effort to move as I neared.  Oh, my!  The beautiful bird seemed to have only one leg!  That would never do!  I was just beginning to ponder if the alligator had gotten this bird like it had the heron.  Had the same ill fate befallen both birds?

  When I was a few feet from the bird, it lifted its wings and flew across the water.  Nope.  My fears were unfounded (thankfully!)  The bird had both legs but was only standing on one at the time.  The other leg was tucked up under its feathers.  This is supposedly done to conserve body heat so it makes sense.  As my friend flew westward, I whispered "thank you!"  I definitely did not need another critter to attend.

In Distress

  Sometimes watching nature on the Bayou can make me extremely sad.  A turn of events can create dire circumstances for some of my critter friends.  Just a few days ago, one such thing was observed and it has left a nagging feeling inside of me.  While Mark and I were on the pier, my brother called out to us.  He brought to our attention a bottlenose dolphin that was breaching nearby. "That poor fellow doesn't have his fin!"  He yelled at us.  Sure enough, with the next breach, we noticed that the dorsal fin had been severed.  The dolphin was trying its best to catch mullet but was having difficulty in diving correctly.  With each breach, it became more and more apparent that the dolphin was in great distress. My heart started breaking as I knew there was nothing we could do to help this poor creature.

  A bit later, I asked a marine biologist friend if the dolphin had even the slightest chance of survival without this all important fin.  "No, the dolphin will most likely die a slow death." was his answer.  I wanted to cry.  He did reassure me that he would pass along the information I had given him to the proper rescue folks.  "Perhaps, they can capture the dolphin and try to help."  It was all the hope I had for my critter friend. 

  This morning, there was an entire pod of bottlenose dolphins in the Bay.  The injured one stayed in the far corner of the inlet so I was not able to get photographs of it.  Mark and I watched the healthy dolphins corral the mullet and seemingly steer them toward the hurt one.  It appeared that the healthy ones were trying to help their injured pod mate.  If this is true, then these creatures are some of the most understanding and caring beings on this old earth.

  Hopefully in the morning, I will have a front row seat on our pier to watch the rescue team at work.  It would make me elated to know that someone is trying to amend what has happened to the poor creature.  Also, hopefully, the rescue team will find that this was just an accident and not an intentional act of brutality.  As I said, my heart aches.