Healing Rains

    The other day, I was surprised by a sudden rain shower.   While in the garden, everything was bright and sunshiny, then a few moments later, I was being drenched.  Raindrops fell with a delightful burst of energy cooling the afternoon heat...but...that sun just kept on shining!  I was caught in the midst of a sun shower.  It felt good.  It felt refreshing.  I felt as happy as the raindrops seemed to be.

  There are a lot of weird little folktales or myths attached to sun showers.  The most commonly heard is that the devil is beating his wife.  That sounds just about right for the devil but why would it be attached to such a lovely sight as the sun shower?  Nope.  Don't like that one.  Another is that a witch is getting married.  Hmmm?  Well, I guess if she wanted to spend the time to conjure up a weather phenomenon just to be crafty on her wedding day, this would suffice but that is purely up to her, I guess.  Then, there is the belief that a sun shower is the harbinger of severe weather to come the next day at the same time of day.  Since we did not receive a bad storm the next day...rain showers...but not severe, that one is discredited, I suppose.  Most of the other tales were all connected to animals getting married...huh...especially fox.  Alrighty, then.  After digging around in the wonderful world of the internet, I finally came across a "good" thing connected to sun showers.  The rains are supposedly healing.  This...I like!

  To be honest, all rains are healing.  The water heals the earth and allows for life to continue.  Without rainfall, all would soon wither and die.  It does not take a phenomenon such as a sun shower to prove this.  There is a scientific explanation, however.  It seems that sun showers occur when a single cloud jumps the gun and moves ahead of the crowd and drops some rain. The angle of the sun is not blocked by the single cloud allowing for a sun shower.  While this is all well and good, it is not as fun as being all magical and stuff!  I think I shall keep with the healing raindrops.

A Cardinal Came To Visit

  Early this morning, I took the old dog out for his morning exercise.  He was moving slowly....even more slowly than usual.  His energy seemed sorely lacking and his movements appeared to ail him.  The cool front that dropped our temperatures some 20 degrees during the night may be the culprit.  He has arthritis pretty heavily which makes walking rather painful at times.  Since our hike was progressing at a snail's pace (if even that), I had plenty of time to check around for anything worth photographing.  About half way down the hill, our hike came to an abrupt halt.  Mr. PJ had enough of the walking and sat down to rest his weary bones.  He did not want to move no matter how hard I tried to cajole him.  We could go no further.  We could not go back.  He sat.  Well, it was best to let him sit so I meandered a bit always staying with in his line of vision.

  Alongside of the path, there is a couple of dead trees.  It was on one of these dead limbs that a cardinal suddenly popped in to visit.  The bird seemingly was trying to get my attention.  It flitted about the tree just a few feet from me then came to rest in full view. The bird started making a light chipping sound all the while keeping a steady gaze at me.  I talked with the bird as if it could fully understand what I was saying.  By the head tilts and intermittent silences, maybe it did.  After about ten minutes of our visit, the bird broke out into full song.  Wow!  I felt honored.

  It is often said that when a cardinal appears to be trying to garner your attention, it has a message from beyond.  It seems that the name "cardinal" comes from the Latin word "cardo" which translates to hinge.  If you use your imagination here, you can see where this all got started.  A door has hinges so the bird is passing through the door between Heaven and Earth as it carries messages.  Sometimes, we need that assurance that our loved ones are still there...still watching over us.  The myths and legends about the cardinal all deal with good health, happy relationships, renewal of spirit and protection.  Since the bird is hard to miss with its bright color and happy song, it is easy to see why folks want it to be associated with someone they have loved...and still love.  I wonder who came to visit me today???  There are so many that I would love to visit again. 

Glinting in Blue

  Here lately, I cannot sleep past about 4am.  I am up, coffee brewed and ready to start the day.  I figure I might as well make use of the time if I am going to be awake so there is not much use in tossing and turning trying to go back to sleep. Just get up and get going.  Daybreak is one of my favorite times anyway so a hike is always in order.  Meandering about the hillside goes slowly since the old dog, Mr. PJ, cannot keep up the pace.  At one point this morning, the old dog needed a rest so while he sat, I photographed how the sun played on the leaves and created shadow puppets of weird shapes.  

  Just as the old dog was about ready to continue our walk, I noticed how the sun was shimmering on the bottle tree.   The bottles were aglow with the sunbeams!  This makeshift bottle tree was a clue hunt prop from several years ago.  The Annual Clue Hunt on the Bayou that year had a theme of Deep South Legends and so a bottle tree was a necessary addition.  It has become sort of a quirky part of the yard now and it would seem odd to remove it.  In reality, with today's light show, it occurred to me that perhaps I should expand the "limbs" on the tree and add a few different colored bottles.   While the blues are gorgeous, if there were a few more colors sparkling with the sunbeams, it would add another magical touch to the Bayou.

  For those who are not familiar with bottle trees, they are somewhat a custom down here in the Deep South.  The idea behind the "tree" dates back hundreds of years.  Empty bottles are stuck on the small branches of a dead tree or, nowadays, on a wire "tree".  The idea is that spirits are attracted to the colored glass and soon find their way into the bottles.  There, the spirits become trapped during the night and are destroyed by the morning sun.  According to legend, the spirits are most attracted to the cobalt blue glass but, in a pinch, any color will suffice.  

  Like I said, my bottle tree began as a clue hunt prop but has now become part of the mystical, magical existence of the Bayou itself.  I think it is probably here to stay.

In The Graveyard Or On The Bayou....

  Several years ago, I related a tale about ghosts and misconceptions.  This was in explanation of how the blooms of the yucca blooms had earned the name Ghosts of the Graveyard.  It seems that at some point, a few folks claimed to see ghosts flitting about a local cemetery.  These folks were so convinced by the sight that they hurried to tell others about their find.  It seems that a designated group of ghost hunters were dispatched to the graveyard that very same night to investigate.  Indeed, they, too, saw the ghostly-white images floating about the graves but on closer inspection, they found yucca blooms.  The tall, spindly stalks were supporting huge clusters of blossoms that glimmered in the moonlight.  Hence, from that night's sighting came the "Ghosts of the Graveyard" description.

  The ghosts on the Bayou are of the same ilk.  Some fifteen feet in height and with three feet of that being blooms, it is easy to imagine the mistaken identity.  By the light of a full moon, the creamy white blooms do seem to glow and the least amount of wind can sway those large clusters in a most "spectral" way.  

  The yuccas are just starting to bloom so the blossoms are scanty.  By the weekend, most of the buds will be open creating quite the vision of loveliness.  While I am not a fan of the spiky plant while mowing the grass, let it bloom and it suddenly becomes a favorite!  These "ghosts" can float about the hillside all they want!  

Lots of Berries

  While out and about the hillside today, I found more yaupon trees with their show-stopping displays of red berries than ever before.  It seems that birds munching the berries are inadvertently planting the seeds all over the hill!  Not that I mind, since I find the bright red berries rather attractive.   I am quite sure that given a few more weeks, nary a crimson berry shall be found.  The cedar waxwings will fly to the area and make quick work of my lovely berries!  Those birds can strip a tree in a matter of minutes!

  Holly has always been synonymous with Christmas and the entire holiday season.  The bright red berries and dark green leaves seem to lend themselves to the season and all its trappings.  We are most accustomed to seeing the American Holly or English Holly among the decorations but it is not to far-fetched to find Yaupon Holly adorning wreathes or garlands especially down south.  In the Deep South, yaupons grow rampantly in woods, on the sides of roads and in any fence lines that are not regularly cleared. Here on the Bayou, the small shrubs even grow right in the marshy areas.   Since all holly trees are dioecious, not all trees bear berries.  Yaupon trees are the same.  Only the female trees will be highly decorated come late fall.  The male trees simply stay green.  It is that bit of information that sparked a memory from long ago.

    A sweet little lady told me a tale about using yaupon to decorate a home for the holidays.  Ms. Dot related that if male yaupon branches were entwined about a wreath for the doorway, the coming year would find the man of the house making all major decisions.   He would "rule the roost".   If female yaupon was used because of the pretty berries, the wife would have the ruling hand for the coming year.  She always told me to use lots of berries!  It is funny how something so common as the use of a pretty branch can have a sneaky legend attached!  I wonder just how many husbands would ban holly berries of any kind from the house if this legend were proven to be true!    Personally, I love to leave the yaupon berries on the tree.  Having the cedar waxwings visit is enough incentive for me to let the berries stay where they grew.

Have I Been Duped?

  Once again, I spent a good ten minutes of my morning splitting persimmon seeds.  There was a little "madness in my methods" since I was checking the weather forecast for the coming winter.  My trial of the seeds is still being processed.  Question???  Can persimmon seeds predict the severity of winter?  I am still pondering the fact.  

  According to the Old Timers around the area, if you slice a seed and find the image of a fork, the winter will be mild.  If you come across a knife, the weather will prove to be stabbing cold.  A spoon, on the other hand, will see you shoveling snow or, at best down here, having a dusting of powder or perhaps sleet.  For the past couple of years, I tested.  Knives and spoons seem to be the most prominent symbol in the seeds that I have tested over the years.  Ice and snow!  Well, that did work out a couple of times with ice storms.  Forks were not often present but warm winters are almost the rule down here.  

  I am thinking that perhaps this system is purely a myth and the Old Timers who keep swearing by it, are fudging a bit on their finds.  When I cut the seeds today, I found spoons....lots and lots of spoons. Mark and I mulled over the discovery.  Should we lay in an extra cord or two of firewood and perhaps weatherize the windows?  Perhaps an investment of some more blankets would be prudent?  Spoons...lots of spoons! Bring on the snow!  Or have I just been duped by a couple of old geezers who were pulling my leg?

The Elves Were Dancing!

  Fairy Rings, Elf Rings, Sprite Rings...they are all names for a large circle of mushrooms that spring up in yards and fields. These usually make their appearance during a rainy season and can reach thirty to forty feet in diameter.  Once established, the rings will reappear with each rainy season during warm months.  

  I was out meandering the hillside when I noticed a long row of mushrooms.  The row curved into a huge arc bending around the trees and down under the brush.  I bent down to see just how far the row went and then realized that my row was actually a large circle...a Fairy Ring or Elf Ring!  How big?  Well, I would have had to climb up on the rooftop to get a full view of the thing!  It was huge and half hidden beneath bushes but was still a circle.  Those little mystical folks were busy!

  There are several folktales attached to these phenomenons.  One being that the rings are guarded by giant toads that would devour anyone stepping inside the circle.  Oops!  I guess I can debunk this as pure myth as I was slapdab in the middle of the circle before I realized it was even there.  Another tale says that elves made the rings by dancing during the rain.  Hmm...could be.  I was not out there during the recent downpours to watch for any elves.  If there were any dancing, they sure got their exercise with the size of this ring!  Yet another tale tells us that the rings grow above an underground fairy village.  Hmmm...I always figured there was something under this hill!  Now we know!  The circle of mushrooms edges the village and lets us know to be careful while digging there.  Yup!  Sounds logical!  

  Then, again, the spores of the mushrooms probably just get spread from one place to another until there is a vast circle that reseeds itself over the years.  The spores keep spreading outward and the ring keeps growing larger and larger.  Scientifically, this makes sense but you have to admit that it is more fun to believe the mystical versions. 

Pondering the "Man in the Moon"

  Sometimes you just have to wonder about how legends ever came to be.  Some, I can understand.  Others are so far-fetched that reading them makes me scratch my head in confusion.  My reading, as of late, has been filled with legends since the upcoming Annual Clue Hunt on the Bayou deals with mostly "Bayou" legends.  I never realized just how many of the tales dealt with either bayous, bogs, swamps, mires, marshes or whatever.  "The Rougarou", "The Will-o-the-wisps", "The Fountain of Youth" are among a few of the more familiar ones.  (Now that I mentioned these, don't you just want to go read them?)  The Rougarou is sort of a Cajun version of the werewolf tales of old.  Ok, so I see where a spin could be taken on some of the other tales but what makes me wonder is how this was originally a tale to "scare" tots into going to bed.  "You better get yourself in that bed before the Rougarou gets you!"  Yep, that would make me just want to race down the hall into a dark room, jump into bed and expect to get a peaceful night's sleep!  The Will-o-the-wisps is at least somewhat nicer.  In most versions, these are described as faerie lights seen out over the mires. They were pixies that used their lanterns to lure folks into the marshes. More oft than not, these wayward folks were "drunken" sports who lost their way home.  The sots would follow the lights deeper and deeper into the marsh until they were stuck forever.  From my way of thinking, the drunkards were probably seeing a lot more than lights and just did not have enough sense to follow the road.  Of course, there are many versions of the Fountain of Youth...so we won't even go there right now.

  One of the things that really made me ponder was the tale of "The Man in the Moon".  Some say that if you look really hard you can actually see the face of a man looking back at you or you can see the full body of a man carrying sticks on his back.  To this, I say...we must be traveling back to the tale of the Will-o-the-wisps and folks telling the tale are imbibing a bit. If you can actually see these things without a vast amount of imagination, your eyesight is either clouded or vastly clearer than mine. Whichever!  I have stared at that old moon and, for the life of me, cannot see a man.  I do not disparage the fact that perhaps others can see him but not me.  And I especially cannot see his face in a crescent moon even though most of the time he is depicted as a profile.  

  The version with the man carrying a load of sticks comes from long ago and has been handed down through verbal lore.  It seems that European tradition says that this is a man who was caught gathering sticks on the Sabbath.  It seems that he was a poor man who was trying to warm his hearth but a rule is a rule. As punishment for working on that day, he was banished to the moon.  There, he was doomed to circle the earth forever as part of his sentence. To this day, he carries his load of sticks round and round the earth year after year.  That sure seems like a tough punishment for gathering sticks to keep warm. 

  Another version says that it is not a man at all but rather frogs.  I have never heard tell of "Frogs on the Moon" but, hey, we are talking legends here.  Seems that a great flood came and washed three frog sisters from their house.  The waters ran deep and washed the froggies down to a great eddy that swished them to the House of the Moon.  Once there they wished to reach a higher place as to not get wet so they perched themselves upon his head.  Here, they can still be seen each night there is a full moon.  Hmmmm...that one is really a head-scratcher!

  All of this pondering is merely because of a clue hunt and my working on props.  As I sat creating a very rustic version of a crescent moon, a thought went through my head.  I wonder just what the theme for next year will be and if it will be just as entertaining.  What ever possessed me to do legends?  Goodness!

A True Lady

  Mark and I were out back inspecting the plum trees when a tiny red dot caught my attention.  Scurrying about on the plum leaves was a pretty little Ladybug.  My first thought was...does it have an "M"?  I sure hoped this was a Ladybug and not an Asian Beetle.  I did not need more critters munching away on my plants.  Back a year or so ago, I searched for a telltale sign that would assure me as to which beetle was which.  I found that Asian Beetles have a whitish spot between their back and head.  On this splotch there is an "M" (or a "W" depending on which way you are looking at the beetle.  True Ladybugs do not bear this brand.  A quick check of Mrs. Bug's back made me breath a sigh of relief.  There was no letter at all!  This one was a true Ladybug.

  Ladybugs are not bugs at all but rather are beetles.  With that thought, perhaps we should call them Lady Beetles but, then again, not all are ladies, therefore, that would be erroneous as well.  Plus, since the name has been around for hundreds of years, I doubt too many folks would change anyway. The name came about during the Middle Ages.  Legend has it that a hoard of aphids were eating all the crops causing the farmers much dismay.  They prayed to the Virgin Mary to send help.  No sooner had they prayed than a swarm of beetles came and started eating the aphids.  These bright red beetles saved the crops and, thus, saved many farmers.  The grateful farmers, once again, prayed and thanked the Lady Mary for sending the beetles.  The Farmers named the beetles "Our Lady's Beetles" and over time the name was shortened to Ladybugs.  

  My little Ladybug went flying away as I was photographing her.  I suppose she was a bit camera shy but the beetle's action made me think of my grandmother.  When I was small she would point out Ladybugs on the flowers.  She would gingerly pick up one and say..

 "Ladybug, Ladybug, flyaway home!  

Your house is on fire and your children are gone, 

All except one and that's Little Ann, 

For she crept under the frying pan!"

  Now when you think about that rhyme, it does not seem to be a delightful little ditty to be singing to wee tots.  In reality, it is rather frightening.  Poor Little Ann!  In truth, most nursery rhymes were not too very pleasant.  Again, legend has it that this one started as a warning cry during the time when Catholics were prohibited from celebrating Mass over in England during the late 1500's to mid 1600's. Catholic priests took to holding Mass in open fields but were often executed for doing so.  The rhyme became a sort of warning when the authorities were near. One never knows just what is behind these rhymes we sing!  

  Still, I was happy to find the little Ladybug flitting about the fruit trees and I am in hopes that many more will be spied in the gardens soon. Where there is one, there has to be more!  And, perhaps, then more and more of the friendly little beetles instead of so many aphids!  So, Ladybug, do NOT flyaway home! Stay here!  

Legends of the Sea

Living on a Bayou, I see and hear a lot of things. There is always much talk of things of the water, the tide, the day's catch, and tackle shops. There are also legends. Legends that are passed down through the ages. Some are wonderful tales of huge Manta Rays that had "wing" spreads that spanned an old schooner and flounder jubilees where the flat fish would move close to the shores. Stories are told of how during these jubilees waders could spear more flounders than they could carry. Then there are the stories of cannons that were found in Biloxi Bay..some say they were from the Civil War..others say they were from much earlier..so it is with legends. I love to hear the older fishermen talk of these things in their "Old Biloxi" lingo that is somewhat of a Cajun/Creole mix. Their old Southern drawl adds much to their story-telling as does the extra embellishments that are added to the original tale. Many would sit spinning these yarns while patching their nets or shucking oysters. Almost every yard would have a gathering of fishermen eager to talk to any who would listen. How I wish that I had taken notes at these gabfests! What a wonderful collection of history..truth or fiction..this would have been! It is rare to see nets strung up to dry any more or the piles of oyster shells stacked along the back fence. What use to be the norm, now is quickly becoming a thing of the past.

Speaking of legends of the sea, one of my favorites is about the lowly saltwater catfish. Those "good fer nothin' hard heads" as many call them. These catfish are one of the few fish that are considered not edible and they are quite the pain (literally) to deal with when caught. Their fins can stab you and inflict a very nasty wound. But all this said, it is this "scrap" fish that has one of the most endearing legends attached to it. If ever the opportunity arises that you can see the cleaned backbone of this fish, you can see what appears to be the body of Jesus on the Cross. If you flip it over there is the Roman shield and if you shake this Cross it rattles. This rattling is said to be the dice that were tossed for Christ's garments. A similar story is about the Sand Dollar. When looking at a Sand Dollar (a flattened type of Sea Urchin) you will see a star in the center..this star represents the Star of Bethlehem. There is a "flower" surrounding the star that is said to be the Poinsettia or Christmas Flower. The five wounds that Jesus suffered are shown as five holes in the shell and if the shell is broken..five white doves of peace can be found. These doves represent the love of Christ.

So many things are tied to the sea..not only in legend but in our lives. Our very existence hinges on the sea and its health.