Hunting for Magic!

  I have often said that the Bayou is a magical place full of mystical beings.  While this may fully be due to my wild imagination, one cannot help but believe that there are a lot of unseen entities dwelling among the palmettos, hiding beneath the ferns and playing in the creek bottom.  Back before the old dog became incapacitated, he and I would wander aimlessly in search of the magic.  We often found it.  Somewhere deep in the woods, a feeling would surround us then, invariably, a presence could be felt.  Usually, a critter of some sort would be found hiding among the leaves or staring down from the treetops.  Whether these critters were magical to others remains to be seen but they were (and still are) to me. 

  Now that Mr. PJ has fallen too weak to hike, he and I spend more time inside.  His days are spent napping on his bed and I piddle about making clue hunt props.  The old dog's health and happiness have taken precedence over my hikes.  Still, I occasionally get to slip out the back door when he is in a deep sleep.  It is then that I continue my search for magical beings!  

  Down behind the old pump shed, the new path twists and turns beneath some huge magnolia trees.  Their thick canopy pretty much blocks out the sunlight and gives the path an almost ominous flare.  It was here that I found the tiny mushroom that just begged for some elfin creature to dance upon its cap.  I photographed the mushroom but never once laid eyes upon the elf!  Perhaps, later in the week, another hike will prove more productive!  

  Now before you think I have flipped my lid, my magical creatures are merely whatever happens to be found on the short hikes.  It matters not if it is a tiny mouse nibbling the mushroom or the wily bobcat slinking beneath the ferns in hopes of catching a rabbit.  Being in their presence is enthralling so...magical creatures they are.  Right now, I can use all the magic I can find.

"Blooming" Mushroom!

  A few days ago, the little Grand Princess, Mary Ruth and I headed back to the woods to explore and take a few photos.  We found all sorts of interesting "natures" as she called them.  Lichens, mosses, ferns, palmettos and mushrooms were examined and photographed.  The tiny tot did an amazing job with her pictures and I was able to give her pointers on lighting and angles.  

  One mushroom seemed to be her favorite.  A bright red thing about the size of a golf ball intrigued her and filled her with dozens of questions.  I tried to answer each but some were beyond my knowledge.  Mycology is not a strong point with me even though I love looking at the things.  I could not even tell her if it was edible or poisonous.  A warning was given to never, ever touch mushrooms in the wild.   Better to be safe than sorry.

Mary Ruth's photograph of a red mushroom.

The same mushroom a few days later.  From a distance, it looked like a large flower.

  Sometimes things are not what they seem to be. This afternoon, Mark and I took the same path where Mary Ruth and I had seen the red mushroom.  As we neared the spot, I was surprised to see a beautiful red "flower" in the exact spot.  Excitedly, I picked up the pace.  I was fully surprised to find that my flower was none other than the same mushroom.  Instead of being a tight knot, the mushroom had "bloomed" into a rather large, funnel-shaped mushroom complete with a yellow center.  It was gorgeous!  It would have been nice had this mushroom decided to change before Mary Ruth had to go back to the island.  She would have been just as fascinated as I am with this "blooming" mushroom.  Goodness, I miss that little girl and her billion questions.

Its Magical!

  It should come as no great surprise that I think the Bayou is a pretty magical place.  Things here have a way of, well, just being a bit different than other places.  What may seem to be perfectly mundane one day can be quite mystical the next.  It all depends on how you look at things or, rather, how you see things,  I have often said that looking at things and seeing them are two different things.  Seeing is far better.  

  This morning's hike felt a bit different from the get go.  The old dog was not up to gallivanting about the hillside at daybreak so I traipsed the path alone.  As I rounded the bend near where the Bayou meets the creek, a sweet, almost intoxicating scent enveloped me.  Ahh, yes, the tree that folks around here call mimosa (actually, albizia) was in full bloom.  As I stood staring up at the pink, powder-puff flowers, it suddenly hit me that this was one of those magical, mystical moments.   

  Over night, a slight fog had settled over the marsh and softly wafted through the trees.  The early morning sunbeams were just starting to filter through and had seemingly spotlighted the mimosa tree.  There it stood...glowing in all its glory...a thing of untold beauty in the midst of the woods.  I fully expected some faeries to start flitting about the blossoms at any moment.  

  There is nothing better than hiking about the place at dawn.  It is a time when the newness of the day can not only be seen but heard, smelled, tasted and felt.  It is a sensory overload!  That saying "You snooze, you lose!" is accurate.  Had I laid in bed, I would have never seen the beauty set before me.  

The "Water Garden"

  Stormy days on the Bayou are some of my favorite times.  There is just something about a good storm that revitalizes the body and mind.  I need that often especially here lately.  With the heavy rains came high winds.  Those winds pushed the tides far up into the yard and pushed it even further back into the Bayou, itself.  Far back in bowels of the Bayou where the creek empties, there is one spot that draws me.  The swamp almost calls to me to visit, occasionally.  On those times, I slip on my leather moccasins and make the hike.  I tred gingerly so as to avoid any cottonmouths or snapping turtles that lurk there.  All of that just to view one certain spot.  Here, the ferns grow to great heights and arrowhead plants flourish alongside of the white spider lilies.  One gets the feeling that this spot is almost magical!  I fully expect to find some will-o'-the-wisps with their tiny, flickering lanterns during one visit.  The place is wonderfully mystical!

  Just a couple of days ago, that urge to check the spider lilies overcame me and I crept deep into the creek to the spot.  Nothing was blooming...no lilies, no wild irises, not even the duck potatoes.  Still I was mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the greenness that surrounded me.  Then, fast forward to today.  During a break in the rains with the winds pounding the Little Bayou House, I headed out the back door.  The swamp called....I answered.  

  The place was completely different.  No, the flowers were not blooming but a tranformation had taken place.  Now, my little wild garden spot had been flooded.  The ferns and lilies were all engulfed with the brackish waters that came flooding southward down the creek from the heavy rains and the salty water being pushed northward by the high tide and harsh winds.  What a difference!  Instead of faeries flitting about trying to entice me further into the swamp, I fully expected to find that cottonmouth underfoot!  Then, the rains started once again and I had to scurry back up the hillside from the creek, through the woods and back to the safety of the Little Bayou House!

The Magical Woods!

  If you ever wander around in the woods and really...really...observe things, it is not hard to sink into a different sort of mindset.  There is a peace there that cannot be found many other places.  The Bayou offers such things.  Here, there is the serenity of the water but, also, that magical peace that surrounds you deep in the creek bed.  The sounds, smells and sights are different.  It would not be difficult to let the imagination run wild once you are in the swamp.  Perhaps, some writer of the daydreaming ilk lost his way in the swamps and fanciful fairy tales were the result.  There are just so many fantastical things beneath the canopy of tree branches. 

  This morning, I hiked about the hillside.  A light sprinkling of rain fell upon me as I quietly slipped through the palmettos. The old dog, PJ, eagerly sniffed everything.  This was new territory for him and he was enjoying every moment.  After we made our way far down below the canebrake and even further down to where the hill slides into the creek, I found a (semi)dry space to sit.  PJ was too antsy.  He wanted to continue his sniff-fest but soon agreed to be my companion under the oak tree.  While a squirrel chattered fussily at us, birds were more curious than frightened.  Soon a dozen or more birds could be seen flitting about the nearby branches.  Blue tailed skinks darted among the leaves and a lone beetle rustled about in a rotted stump.  The summer of rains had produced a prolific crop of assorted mushrooms on trees, stumps and among the mosses.  It was a delightful experience, to say the least.

  Then our adventure came to an abrupt end!  Thunder sounded...loud and clear!  We had better scoot ourselves out of the woods and back up that hillside!  Neither the dog nor I are spring chickens and that steep hill just grew steeper!  We just made it to the front door when the clouds burst.  Whew!  That was close but so worth the hustle! The little adventure into the Magical Woods was inspiring!