The Right Name...

   I have a confession.  Until just recently, I have known the black-headed geese that visit the Bayou as "Canadian Geese".  That is what my grandpa called them.  That is what Pop called them.  Just about everybody around here called these geese by that name.  Not only that, we were taught that name in school when we were to identify birds.  Yep, they were Canadian Geese, alright...everybody said so.  What was a kid to think?  Then, a couple of years back, I found that the name is a big mistake.  The real name of this bird is not "Canadian Goose" but...Canada Goose.  There you go.  A mistake has been corrected.  Actually, I corrected myself two years ago when it was brought to my attention.  I am careful now to call the stately birds by their correct names.  Just imagine going your whole life with everyone never getting your name right?  Also, who says you cannot teach an old dog new tricks?  It is never too late to learn folks...never too late.

  Speaking of these lovely birds, the other morning saw a number of them visiting the shore near the pier.  The sun was just peaking above the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou when I heard their clamor as they came to a splashdown just to the west of us.  As with any wildlife that chooses to grace me with its presence, I was enamored.  The birds stayed for as long as I was on the pier giving me plenty of opportunities to photograph them in all their beauty. 

  Folks, take the time to soak in as much beauty and tranquility as you can as it can change in a drop of a hat.  Things as simple as a goose flying in to greet you can become something of the past...a memory...in a matter of minutes.  Enjoy each moment...and NEVER STOP LEARNING.  The Canada Geese will appreciate the thought, I am sure.

Good old college try!

  It is easy to be misled by those who think they are authorities on just about everything.  A few years back, a tree bloomed in the swamp behind the house.  A new pathway had just been cleared when the blooms were discovered so the tree was left intact.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that there was a so-called botanist that was a family member.  Aha!  A botanist should definitely be able to identify a tree by photos of the leaves, bark and bloom.  Throw in the location, the soil conditions and time of blooming and it should be an easy task.  My "botanist" friend eagerly gave me an identity and I accepted it as fact.  Big mistake!  Apparently botanists are not always correct but, for years, I firmly believed the answer given.  The tree sat with the misnomer of "Virginia Sweetspire".  

  Now just through browsing the Internet for the identity of yet another tree, I stumbled across my "fake" sweetspire!  It is not sweetspire at all!  The tree in question now has an accurate name strictly due to the Mississippi State University website.  I suppose I should have known from the get-go that a Mississippi university would know far better about the trees in the state than some out-of-state botanist.  (In all fairness here, perhaps my friend just glanced at the photos and took a wild guess as he did not wish to delve into a tree not native to his area.  Understandable, I guess...maybe.  But I sure wish he would have just said that he did not know instead of giving me false information.)

  The true identity of my tree is Swamp Cyrilla!  I am just about as happy as a honeybee in a daisy garden with that news!  Swamp Cyrilla is an attractive tree sort of on the smallish side but it drapes beautifully over the path.  It has the long, dangling racemes that are creamy white and are obviously highly addictive for bees!  Thousands of honeybees were buzzing the blooms today and according to the MSU website, the honey made from nectar of the Swamp Cyrilla is exceptional.  I guess I need to find that beehive!  Still, it confuses me how a botanist can be oh, so wrong about a tree when they have access to the material needed to make an identity.  I do believe I shall stick with the university's information if I need another tree's name.

Oh, so close!

  Today, I headed to the garden to plant okra.  I had one spot left to dig a single row so that was going to have to do for the moment.  A few steps after entering the garden gate, something bright caught my eye.  Of course, I whipped the camera in action and proceeded to photograph a critter in the middle of the pathway.  Since I had broken my glasses a few days back, I thought I had found a lovely moth!  In fact, the colors were so similar to the Scarlet-bodied Wasp Moth, I figured that the thing was another critter that would not do major damage in the garden.  Wow.  Was I wrong!  Without those spectacles, I making a huge mistake.

  The critter that I so patiently photographed was the bane of most gardeners (at least those who refuse to douse their plants with harmful chemicals!).  The "pretty" critter was a moth alright but not the one I thought.  I had just spent ten minutes photographing a Squash Vine Borer Moth!!!!  Yep!  This was one of those critters that insists on laying its eggs inside the stalk of squash plants.  There, the egg hatches and the larva munches on the inside of the stalk while being hidden away from all predators.  Ugh!.  And to think...I just lifted the critter up and put it on the jasmine vine!

Scarlet-bodied Wasp Moth

Squash Vine Borer Moth

  After the photo session, I realized my mistake.  Looking at the photos, I could clearly see the critter was not one that I wanted in the garden.  Out I raced to hunt down that Squash Vine Borer Moth!  I searched and searched the jasmine vine to no avail.  I was just about to resign to the fact that there would be no healthy squash plants after today when I spied that critter on a rose bush!  

  I am happy to say that at least one Squash Vine Borer Moth will not be laying eggs in the garden.  Goodbye, Garden Pest!  Your mimicking trick did not work this time!  Those fuzzy legs gave away your true identity!  (Just so you will know, folks, under those top wings, the Squash Vine Borer Moth has the clear "window-pane" wings like the other moth.  Blue thorax and fuzzy back legs...dead giveaway!....Oh, and make sure to have glasses handy if you wear them!)

 

The Joke Was On Me!

  With all of the warm weather we have had lately, birds are all starting to nest.  This is early...far too early...as the little ones will have to endure a bit of cold weather if hatched.  Still, it has happened before and it all turned out fine.  Mother Nature has this matter under control without interference from us.  Still, I fret and worry about things like this simply because I have grown attached to the critters of the Bayou and surrounding swamp.  These are my friends!  

  Once again, my hike around the property took me along the shoreline back to the depths of the swamp.  A drizzly rain made it a bit miserable but it was a lot better out than going stir-crazy inside.  There are several old oak trees near or even in the marsh that have massive limbs that dip down into the mud.  This creates sort of a "secret room" that many critters use to their advantage.  The overhang of limbs can be a place of protection and the mudflats beneath supply a quick source of food.  On my strolls, it is my habit to take a quick peek into these "rooms".  There is always something new there.  A raccoon may be feasting on the fiddler crabs, a young heron may be stalking the mudflats or a screech owl may be whiling away the daytime hours on one of the limbs.  These are all points of interest to someone keeping a watchful eye on the Bayou. 

Definitely NOT a Clapper Rail egg!  

  This morning, I was taken aback by the sight of an egg plopped right in the middle of the "room" beneath the oak.  Surely, that was not an egg!  I pushed a bit further under the branches only to realize that, yes, it was definitely an egg.  Judging by the size and by the color, it appeared to be the clapper rail's egg.  The egg was a buff color with darker blotches and a bit smaller than a hen's egg.  I did have reservations about that call since this egg seemed to be a tad yellow but that was the nearest I could think at the moment.  Finding the egg caused great concern.  Had the rail already made a nest, laid an egg and had that egg stolen?  Had she not created the nesting site but had the urge to lay that egg already and just abandoned it?  Was I imagining things?  Ok, curiosity got the best of me.  Since there was no way that this egg could hatch in the cold mud and there was no bird in sight, I pushed further under the old oak.  Mud sucked at my shoes and a stench of good, old Bayou mud wafted upward with each step.  Yes, indeed, I was crazy for even attempting this jaunt but the "Mystery of the Egg" was just too much!

  After traipsing into the sloppy mud all-the-while clinging to the limbs above and hoping that a cottonmouth was not in the vicinity, I got my answer.  I felt a tad foolish.  When I reached down for the egg, it dawned on me that this thing did not "feel" right.  Yup!  I had been duped.  The egg was a plastic egg that had obviously been washed in with the tide.  The egg was old but still intact.  The color was faded, the blotches were stains and the inside was filled with mud!  Some day, I will learn to leave well enough alone. Now...let me go see if I can de-mud my shoes!

Not a Cottonmouth!

  I am first to admit that my vision is far from what it used to be even with the glasses that are always with me.  Not that it is terrible but sometimes, I do have trouble.  Couple that declining vision with a bunch of shadows and things can get downright befuddled.  Take this morning, for instance.  I was out at dawn with the old dog.  He had another rough night so I wanted to get him fed, out and back to his bed as quickly as possible. He needed his rest.  So, as we were slowly meandering down to his "spot", I had time to scan the marsh line for critters.  The tide was high and there was a bit of a south wind.  Suddenly, I spied something in the shallows where the water had come above the marsh line and was puddling in the underbrush.  A undulating movement of something...long, round, dark and wiggly.  Uh, oh.  Perhaps this was that large cottonmouth that I had seen earlier in the spring.  I was sure glad the old dog was not nearby.

  After I got him back safely inside, I ventured out to find my "snake".  I wanted to make sure the thing did not decide to make itself at home on the path to Mr. PJ's loo.  By now, the sun was starting to brighten things a bit which gave me a much better view.  To my surprise, that "snake" was still in the same spot...still undulating. 

  Whew!  I breathed a sigh of relief.  That "snake" was no snake, at all!  Some storm must have washed an old bike inner tube into the marsh and the high tide of this morning pushed it further ashore.  My "snake" was completely harmless.  There was no need to worry about Mr. PJ this morning.  Still, I will scan the path each time he walks.  With his vision and sense of smell going the wayside, I have to be extra vigilant....even to the point of watching for those "dangerous" bike tubes!

The Bayou Serpent!

   There are a lot of weird critters that live in the marsh and waters of the Bayou.  While crabs, shorebirds and fish are all easily recognized, some of the other critters throw me for a loop.  I have several "experts" to turn to in these instances, so all is well.  Still, when I am on the pier at the crack of dawn with no other human in sight and a weird critter pokes its head out of the water to take a look at me, it can get downright creepy!  

  This happened the other morning.  Mr. PJ (the old dog) had opted to stay inside so I went alone.  Without his noise-making, the wild critters continued their hunt for breakfast.  The snapping turtle eyed me cautiously, the otter mom barked furiously at me and the heron came on to breakfast.  It was a good morning for critter-watching!  However...

  As I was preparing to throw the net to catch bait, a dark "head" bobbled from beneath the water.  With the sun not yet bright enough to shed light on my unknown "critter", I thought it best to wait on that net casting.  The critter that was eyeing me with two beady knobs atop its head may not appreciate being caught.  I figured the best thing to do would be wait and watch.  The "critter" submerged again and the surfaced nearer the pier.  Now that the sun was brighter and the unknown thing was closer, I had to giggle.  My critter was not a critter at all!  It was a snail encrusted chunk of a palm tree!  As the waves bobbled the wannabe sea serpent on under the pier, I could make out that it was two knots on the wood that appeared to be eyes peering at me through the darkness!  Goodness!  My imagination does run wild sometimes!

  Oh, the things I find on this Bayou!  While it may have been exciting to find a new critter, I am rather glad that this was not one!  Or, at least, let me find something weird only when someone else is on the pier with me.  No one would ever believe me, otherwise!

Another Case of Mistaken Identity

  Folks mean well.  They really do.  It is just that sometimes their good intentions are misguided.  With the popularity of social media and the welfare of pets. people just get overzealous at times.  With just a bit of commonsense and patience, a bit of the urgency could be avoided.  Some of the "found pets" would rather not be found at all since they are supposed to be wild. Today, there was just such an incident where a well-meaning lady thought she saw one thing and it turned out to be something totally different.  The "swat crew" of animal rescue folks was called to retrieve "two beautiful, blue finches that are on the loose!"  After all of the hullabaloo that ensued,  it was decided that it was all a case of mistaken identity.  Social media on high alert!  Animal Rescue notified!  Two hours of searching for pet birds!  Nary a "beautiful, blue finch" found.  On the other hand, I have seen lots of Indigo Buntings flitting about the place!

  While not everyone knows an Indigo Bunting from a bedbug, it is sometimes wise to check things first.   Folks at the animal rescue place should have been aware that it is the season for these little birds to be moving through the area as they migrate.  They come twice a year, stop in for a few days then hurry on their way. 

  I had read the urgent request for help early in the day then set about painting the front door.  While I worked I had the windows all flung open to take advantage of the wonderful breeze that comes off of the water.  The sound of birds singing, squirrels fussing and waves hitting the marsh made for a pleasant work atmosphere.  At one point a flash of blue caught my eye.  I peered out the window and saw the "beautiful, blue finch" also known as an Indigo Bunting searching for seeds under the rose arbor.  Sweet!  Then, it dawned on me what had caused all of the commotion down the road a ways.  Bless their hearts, I felt for those poor folks in their never-ending quest.  You know fully well that the little buntings were oblivious to their no-show doppelgangers and were probably confused at being chased by good-hearted folks with their "birding" nets.  Come on, folks!  Get a birdwatching guide book if nothing else! So, here is a photo of a bunting as seen through the window screen.   It is NOT a tame finch!  That said, buntings and finches are related and this bunting is blue so this case of mistaken identity may be understandable....somewhat....but the panic involved in the search was a bit of overreaction...to say the least.