Every year just about this time, I have flashbacks of a time long ago. These are of a span of years between toddler and teens when I would have a special time with my grandmother. She and I both loved the movie "Brigadoon" and would share a special time watching it together. The tradition started when I was about 5 years old and lasted until my teens when she passed. I would spend the night at her house watching the movie and sipping milked down tea in her fine teacups. It was our own special "togetherness" time...a time that I will never forget.
This time of year always reminds me of the bond shared between the two of us and our love for the old movie. It is nothing more than the weather that starts rattling around amidst the cobwebs in the far corners of my brain until it shakes out the memories, dusts them off and lets me revel in a bit of bittersweet happiness. This morning, the weather did its part of jogging the memories from their hiding place. Overnight, a thick fog developed and completely whited out the Bayou and its surrounding areas. I could not see ten feet in front of me as I headed to the pier. This always gives me an almost eerie but equally serene feeling. After about an hour, the fog lifted from our area but was still heavy across the Bay. A low lying fog stayed above the channel that separates the two lands. The island to my right was vividly apparent but the shore just beyond was shrouded in the mist. Only the tops of the buildings and the tall water tower could be seen. "Brigadoon" (better known around here as Keesler Air Base) was emerging from the mist! My memories started running wild.
It is also times like this that spurs the imagination into gear. All sorts of fanciful tales were causing a ruckus in the mind. Tales of disappearing villages, true love and, of course, fog! Fog is important in all ramblings of the mind!
Never count on Hollywood to give truthful accounts of anything! No, this is not a political rant, I do not do those. This is a critter rant, for whatever it is worth. Probably not much. For the longest time, I thought eagles made the high-pitched scream that we all heard on the old western movies. Let a cowboy be lost in the desert with an eagle off in the distance and you would always hear a distinctive screech. Yep...that was an eagle! Nope...that might have been an eagle filmed but that was not an eagle screaming. As a kid, I never thought much about it. To me, an eagle could very well be screaming its head off at that cowboy....I was more interested in the horse! I was all about horses and never followed a plot of any movie but, instead, focused solely on the horse! I fretted over the horse stumbling about with no water but never worried that the cowboy was being circled by vultures or screamed at by eagles.
Now as an adult living on the Bayou and watching every critter that calls the place home, I can distinguish an eagle call with the best. To me, the eagles sound a lot like an old rusty wheel. I have yet to hear one scream. Maybe they do but not to my knowledge. That screaming is done by a hawk. Almost every raptor that appears in the movies has a voice over by a red-tailed hawk. This bird has that signature scream down pat! It is a red-tailed hawk scream that is famous! After all these years of believing otherwise, I feel sort of cheated! Not really. Maybe the hawk should feel cheated.
Recently, there have been more red-tailed hawks flying about the Bayou. These birds are huge! They hunt by soaring high above the ground and can spot a mouse at about 100 feet. Their dive is graceful with feet extended and they rarely miss their mark. The hawks will take anything they can overpower and have been known to pick up unattended pets occasionally. Back on the farm, it was quite common to lose a fat hen or baby pig to a red-tailed hawk.
Even with their reputation of being ruthless hunters, it was nice to see three hawks soaring overhead a few days ago. Hearing them scream brought a smile as I thought of how Hollywood misled us all by using a hawk instead of an eagle. Deceptive! Hollywood...how dare you!!! Now, about that horse. Did it make it through the desert?
Years and years ago, I was often allowed to spend the night with my grandmother. While this was probably more of a way to give Mom a break from an active youngster, I felt it was a special treat. Being the youngest of five kids, I often felt left out of the "big kids" doings so I found this little outing quite exciting. My scheduled sleepovers usually coincided with some movie that was being shown on TV. This, too, was exciting as back on the farm, we had no TV. It was on one of these sleepovers that I first experienced the musical "Brigadoon". I was hooked from that moment which led to me being invited each time the movie was shown. It became a ritual for Grandmother to put on the tea kettle, pull out the "fine" teacups and fix a plate of cookies to be enjoyed during our viewing. This tradition carried on until I was a teenager and then my heart was broken by the passing of the dear lady. I could not bring myself to even think of watching the movie for years and years. Then, at some point, Mom asked me to watch it with her and, once again, the movie entranced me. Later, my kids and I never missed a showing of the musical but, instead of milk tea and cookies, the kids wanted more "exciting" foodstuffs. Sometimes we roasted hot dogs in the fireplace while other times, we had an indoor picnic. The decision was theirs and, more oft than not, their grandmother (Mom) would join us for the fun. I miss those days. I cannot say that any current day movie has ever affected me as much as this one did. Then again, I cannot say that any current day movies can possibly been deemed classics either.
This morning, memories of Brigadoon, the mystical city that appears of the mist every one hundred years, came back to me. The time spent with Grandmother, Mom and my kids nearly brought tears to my eyes. These memories were all due a heavy fog that had laid in overnight. The thick mist blocked from view most of the other side of the Bay. Only one small portion of what laid on the opposite shore could be seen and that vision was short lived. The fog slowly blocked out the entire city. The mystical, magical Brigadoon (in this case, Keesler Air Base) slipped from sight for the next one hundred years (or at least an hour).
One of the best parts of living on the Bayou is that you never know what the new day will bring. Things change with the drop of a hat and surprises abound. Each day also brings with it the opportunity to reflect back on things from years ago. The quietness allows the brain to wander where it may thus making each day, each memory worth a visit.
Anyone who has ever had to sit through the old movie "Karate Kid" as many times as I have (thanks to sons), should remember the infamous scene involving the "Crane Kick". In the movie, the "Kid" practices an unusual stance of standing on one leg with his arms flailed out like some wimpy wings. I never could understand why this was such a fantastic thing but, during the course of the movie, that kick was the spotlight of the whole fight. Arms up and droopy, stand on one leg and kick your opponents head. Yep, it was a tad ridiculous, if you ask me but, then again, I am an old lady and not too overly excited about these types of movies. Still, that pose....that weird pose has come back to haunt me....almost, anyway.
While on the pier this morning, I had flashbacks of that crazy old film. It seemed as if every pelican was trying to do a "crane kick". I realize that the birds were just trying to take flight after a dive but the position of their wings resembled that floppy arm pose from the movie. I first noticed it on a pelican that was close to the pier and, later, found that every pelican was doing the same thing. They were all "Karate Kids" doing their best to emulate the character, Daniel. Most of the birds, however, could never get that leg up stance to work! They have the wing...errr...arm thing down pat but the rest was a flop. Perhaps this is all because the pose was merely the idea of a film director and not some true pose. The birds keep trying, though, and yeah, I do have a vivid imagination!
This morning saw hundreds more birds migrating to the Bay. Several large flocks of ducks landed just far enough away to remain unidentifiable. We are definitely in the "Winter Mode" here on the Bayou. Even though we do not have the cold weather like up north, we see winter with our migrating friends. It is all good regardless of the pelicans thinking they are karate experts or even cranes.
