"This is my space!"

   Since I am sort of housebound again, hiking about the hillside is out of the question.  That saying about getting old is not for the weakhearted is quite accurate.  When things slam...well, they slam hard.  I miss going out and seeing my critter friends especially this time of year when things are awakening from the winter.  That said, you can imagine the allure of a single woodpecker drumming somewhere nearby.  As I slipped out the front door, I was in hopes that the bird was somewhere nearby...somewhere within my newly prescribe "range" of activity.  I sat quietly in the old wicker chair in the Small Gardens and listened.  Ok, so the drumming was to the west!  That narrowed it...a wee bit anyway.  Slowly, I shifted my position and listened intently.  It sure seemed that my friend was nearby simply by the potency of the noise.  I scanned the treetops.  Nothing.  Oh, come on, now!  Bird, you just have to be within my confined area!  

  I listened.  Wow!  That was loud!  Perhaps a Pileated Woodpecker made its way into the yard?  Perhaps my Redheaded Woodpeckers have returned after missing for a few years?  Surely, this was a large bird and could be easily seen.  Rap, rap, rap.  The drumming continued as I edged my way...ahem (don't tell)...slightly out of my realm of the Small Gardens and to the west.  Rap, rap, rap!  Oh, geez.  In an old pine near the camellia bushes, there was the source of the intense drumming.  It was not what I expected but still a happy surprise.  A tiny...really tiny...woodpecker was claiming this as its territory!  A small Downy Woodpecker kept pounding away on the hollow limb.  The 6 inch long bird was using this as a drum to send out its messages.  "Hey!  I claim this part of the yard as mine and I found the perfect nesting site."  My little friend was speaking and speaking LOUDLY!  

  You know, Folks, we are all a lot like those woodpeckers.  We lay claim to "our" territory even if it is an emotional space.  We have an innate need to pull into our own territory to decompress and analyze our own being.  This is a healing mechanism.  My physical territory has been limited to the Small Gardens, once again, until another healing process is complete.  This time it is due to a extreme bone density problem.  One fall, one misstep, one wrong twist can bring devastation to my body.  It drives me crazy.  I am stir-crazy already and the diagnosis was only brought to light about two weeks ago.  No more hikes, no more gardening, no more physical anything.  That said, I shall divert the attention to some long overdue creative projects that require the "dreaded" just sitting.  Being lazy hurts!  I have never had so many aches and pains!  These must be endured for the next year while the treatment does its thing but...it is all good.  There is a cure.  So, once again, I am crowning myself as "Queen of the Small Gardens"!  I am healed...or, at least, on the way to being...then, I shall reclaim "my entire territory" and shout it to the world like the drumming of my friend, the woodpecker!

  

Listen to that inner voice!

   Well, it all came crashing down...but, at least, it was not around me.  That being a play on a widely used phrase about things going wrong.  Instead of going wrong, this actually went right but it did crash.  Even though I have a thing about getting up before dawn and wandering the hillside as the sun rises, I was still in bed at 5am. For some odd reason, I just did not really want to get up.   Something told me that I needed to stay in bed.  The old clocks had just started their round of chimes when I heard a tremendous crash.  What was that????  Grabbing a flashlight, I hopped out of bed and headed to the front door.  I peered outside.  The sun had yet to brighten the horizon but the full moon made things eerily light.  I did not want to wander too far as I was still barefooted but I could see there was nothing amiss in the Small Gardens.  Whatever made the crashing sound had to be further away from the house.  I headed back inside to make coffee and wait for daylight.

  Along about 6am, I, again, ventured outside.  It actually took me a while to realize that the crashing sound was made by a pine tree falling to the ground.  The tree had been severely damaged by Hurricane Zeta but had gotten hung up in a hickory tree and not fallen.  Well, it fell.  The hickory tree had finally had enough of that extra weight and gave loose.  Several limbs broke allowing the pine to hit a live oak tree.  It snapped the live oak off about 30ft up and everything hit the ground...the pine, the hickory limbs and the top half of the oak tree.  What a mess!  

  I am thankful that I was not outside in that area when the tree decided to fall.  It could have proved quite dangerous.  I guess it is wise to listen to the inner voice when it tells you "Get back in that bed."  

That Old, Dead Pine

   Along the path that meanders down where the Bayou meets the creek, there stands a dead tree.  At one time, this was a stately pine but now it is just a remnant of what it once was.  Back in 2014, we had some pretty terrible lightning storms.  Several of the pine trees were struck by bolts of lightning which ultimately killed them.  Since most of these were growing right in the marsh, we left the trees stand.   The trees were of no value to us and would become of great value to the wildlife of the area.  As the trees decayed, many insects started gnawing on the inner portions which caused woodpeckers to pound away at the trees.  The cavities soon became homes to, not only the woodpeckers, but dozens of other critters.   Flying squirrels, nuthatches, snakes, lizards and even raccoons nested there.  A dead tree can provide even though it has ceased its own life on this earth.

  Today as I hiked along the path, the tree struck me as some sort of eerie monument.  Its gnarled limbs were silhouetted against the pale lit morning sky.  The tree was dark and ominous.  As I stood there staring at the tree, a tiny flying squirrel darted into one of the holes.  Ahh, yes.  Life continues even through death.  The totem holds life in its arms and gives protection.  Pretty neat thing.

Poison Ivy, Mango and Pistachio...Oh, My!

  Down near the marsh edge, we let the tall pine trees grow.  I do not like them next to the Little Bayou House since any storm blowing through the area can snap the trees off and plummet them through the rooftop.  Hurricane Katrina did that.  In the midst of the storm, I heard a loud crash and found that we had a delightful "pole" in the middle of our living room.  Thankfully, no one was injured but it could have been devastating.  Since then, every pine tree near the house has been removed...except one and I have been after Mark to cut that one for years.  Better to be safe than sorry.

  The trees near the marsh are far enough away that they will do no damage if they fall or get struck by lightning (which the trees are prone to do.)   The pines do not seem to mind the brackish water around their roots so all is well..by them and me.  There is a third reason that I am glad the pines are not too near the house.  They seem to be a poison ivy magnet!  Each tree is literally covered with the vines!  Since the trees actually stand in the marsh, I refuse to go "de-ivy" them.  (Again, better safe than sorry!  I do not want to step on a cottonmouth while trimming a vine.)  

  Eastern Poison Ivy can take over just about anything that is handy to climb.  It does this by little, hairy root like structures that actually penetrate its host (even if that host is a brick wall).  The base of the vine can get up to around six inches in diameter and the vine itself can grow to a length of a hundred feet or better.  It will branch out and twist around the host until it is entirely covered.  Most people would be in misery if they tangled with such a vine as they are (as the name states) poisonous.  A mere touch can lead to a horrendous rash!   The itching seemingly is all consuming and never ends.  

  Humans are prone to having a reaction to the urushiol or oils found in all parts of the poison ivy vine...leaves, roots and stems.  The oils remain even after the plant is dead and contact can still lead to misery!  I was pondering today how squirrels can worm their way through the thick mass of vines and not be affected by the toxins.  After watching several squirrels racing up the ivy covered pine trees, I had to find out the answer.  It seems that only humans and a few other primates have problems with the toxins.  Critters can actually eat the berries, stems and leaves without problems.

  Now...a little known fact to most of us.  Poison ivy is not the only plant to produce the rash creating urushiol.  Of course, most of us know that poison oak and poison sumac do BUT did you know that mango, cashews and pistachios all belong to the same family as poison ivy? Both mango trees and cashew trees can cause a irritating rash to those exposed. Pistachios seem to be less potent but still can cause rashes in some people. So folks even get a rash by eating the peels of a mango!  So...be careful folks!  You best leave the wallowing about in the leaves containing urushiol to the critters.  I think the pine can keep its poison ivy vine to itself.  I had good intentions of chopping it out this winter but...nah, I'm good.

Bringing The Kids Back To Visit!

  As long as I have lived either on the farm (across the road from where I am now) or on the Bayou, spotting an old friend never ceases to thrill me.  If that old friend happens to bring along its young, then I am even happier.  Yes, I am talking about another critter friend, which should not surprise you at all.  On the early morning hike with the old dog, I heard a familiar cackling "laugh" high in the treetops.  The Pileated Woodpeckers were introducing their young to the grand prizes that could be found in the old dead pine trees.  There are three trees that were struck by lightning in the years past and now beetles, ants and grub worms are plentiful.  The woodpeckers were teaching two youngsters the fine art of finding breakfast.   Two juvenile woodpeckers literally hopped from limb to limb on the dead pines before "Dear Old Dad" called them to the Black Gum Tree in the yard.  There, the pickin's must have been good because the foursome stayed for a good while.  Then, the live pine in the yard brought the birds even closer!

  The Pileated Woodpeckers are always welcome on the Bayou. This year, the adults nested in an oak tree far down in the creek bed where I could not get a glimpse of the little ones until today.  Now, those "little"ones are as large as their parents!  It is good to know that these birds are staying around the place with all of the clear-cutting going on in the area.  What humans deem as progress is not kind to those of the critter world.  Many of my critter friends have had to leave the area and, sad to say, may others perished due to lack of suitable habitat.  It saddens me but, at least, I can do my best to leave our acreage as a refuge for any that wish to stay here.  Carry on, my bird friends, carry on!  You are always welcome on the Bayou! 

The "Killer Tree"

  Down along the marsh edge right next to where the Bayou makes a big bend, the trees grow thick and tall.  We cannot get in there to clear any of this area due to the many cottonmouths that lurk in the marsh.  I suppose we could do this in the winter when the snakes go in hiding but then, well, it is cold and I do not particularly like getting wet and muddy and shiver myself to pieces.  So, the whole area is left sort of wild and woolly.

  It is in this spot where the "Killer Tree" grows.  This tree is definitely "poison" and bad news for anyone that gets near.  Actually, I dubbed the tree by this name and by no fault of the poor tree.  You see, it is actually a pine tree.  It is a nice size pine that, by itself, has never done anyone one bit of harm.  It is just playing host to something that could potentially make one think the tree is out to get them.  From the bottom to the top, the entire tree is covered with a huge...HUGE...poison ivy vine.  So far, I have not had a reaction to the ivy (other than one time when we accidentally burned a vine) but, for those highly allergic, the vine covered tree could mean a heapin' amount of trouble. 

  In reality. this is the second such "Killer Tree" that was found on the hillside.  The first was nearer the shed and did present a problem for anyone that used my hiking trail.  I often pondered how to rid the tree of its wicked clinger but that problem was conveniently solved by Mother Nature, herself!  During one strong thunderstorm, a huge bolt of lightning struck and killed the pine tree and, consequently, killed the ivy vine.  Fried!  While this was not my first choice of a solution, it did work rather well.  Mother Nature for the win!  

  The Killer Tree and its clingy vine will just have to live as it is since I am not inclined to do much about it.  I do warn others not to get too close to the tree for both reasons...the ivy and the cottonmouths but, other than that, I ignore the problem.  Thankfully, it is far down in the marsh edge and out of the way.  

Just A Little To the Right

  While wandering the hillside with the old dog, one has plenty of time to ponder things.  Since movement has to be kept at a snail's pace with rest stops about every forty feet, there is not much to be a distraction.  In fact, I have to "find" things to keep the brain from becoming bored.  The early morning hikes at least give me a glimpse of what the day has in store.  The sun peeking over the pines on the far side of the Bayou can let me know if it is to be clear or rainy.  That sun also gives me a view that never fails to astound.

  This morning, Mr. PJ decided he had to go out before the sun was high in the sky.  Our walk took us down near the marsh edge.  As he sniffed for the "perfect spot", the sunrise pulled my attention.  The only way that I can view the eastern horizon from this area is through a gap between trees.  Looking across the marsh, it occurred to me that from the right angle two pine trees appeared to be one.  Move slightly to the side and a small sliver of sunlight could be seen between the trees.  

  This sight started me thinking of how a lot of what we see can be deceiving to the eye.  It pays to look at things from all angles before making a judgment of what things actually are.  Life is funny that way.  There is always more than one view...one angle...one side to every story....or, in this case, tree.  

Three...Two...One!!

  Early this afternoon, Mark headed out to help an elderly couple that we know.  They were having a bit of trouble with their truck so he volunteered to repair the thing.  No sooner had he left than I heard a strange ruckus in the back yard.  I listened for a moment then grabbed the camera and raced to the back door.  I recognized that cacophony!  There were bald eagles somewhere nearby and I wanted photographs, if at all possible!

  My efforts were rewarded!  I did not even have to get off the back porch before I spied these majestic birds.  Three....yes, THREE adult bald eagles were in a pine tree next to the house!!  Ok, ok..calm down.  If I wanted clear photos I needed to take my time and find the best spot to stand.  I quietly slipped off the porch to get the first pictures but an oak tree limb shrouded the birds.  the first photo of the three birds was not as clear as I wished. It was definitely a better place up on the porch.  Just as I prepared to take another photo, one of the eagles flew directly over my head and out of sight behind the roof of the house.  Drats!  Nope!  Do not be discouraged!  Concentrate on the other two.  Then the second bird flew in the same path and was out of sight.  Ok...I am happy with one! 

  The eagles fascinate me and I am happy to see that the numbers here are growing.  Obviously, the birds are being pushed more and more to our piece of property since it is one of the last "wild and free" places in the area.  I intentionally leave as many trees and as much underbrush to act as a safe haven for the critters.  It seems to be working.  The eagles are welcome to stay!

My Warm, Fuzzy Feeling

  Occasionally, there is something that just gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling inside.  While most folks find cutesy knickknacks, thoughtful gifts or photos give them these feelings, my little 'happies" come from knowing the Bayou is a healthy place.  If the critters are doing well, then the overall health of the place must be in a good spot.  My warm, fuzzy feeling came in the form of a heron.

  Yesterday morning just after daybreak, the old dog needed to take a run down the hill.  As we were nearing the old oak tree, a young heron lit in the top of a nearby pine.  Even though the bird seemed to be rather large, its surroundings proved that to be a misconception.  When the bird landing in the fresh pine needles, the comparison between its overall stature and the length of the needles was quite striking.  The needles were nigh on a third the length of the entire height of the bird!  This was a tiny bird as herons go.

  But that heron made a big statement.  If the herons are reproducing in the area and the little ones are staying nearby, then the Bayou, itself, is healthy.  There must be clean water, sufficient nesting sites and plenty of food for the birds to be here.  Obviously, the Bayou is meeting the needs.  My warm, fuzzy feeling need was also met!

Better Be Careful!

  The small critters of the Bayou had better be careful as a rather large predator is stalking the place.  I was painting on those windows once again when I heard a familiar sound.  Just outside the window in a nearby pine tree, a Bald Eagle was making its "rusty wheel" call.  This is what the bird's cry sounds like to me.  I remember the iron wheels on the old hay wagon back on the farm sounding a lot like an eagle's cry.  Once I heard the call, I stared out the window to see the eagle so very close to the house.  Geez!  I am glad Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess Cat, was inside!  I knew if I opened the door to take a photograph, the eagle would be long gone so an attempt at taking a picture through the window glass is all I could do. 

  While Bald Eagles are usually fish eaters, they will (and do!) dine upon small critters such as rabbits, squirrels, snakes and any other animals that are available.  The ones around here seem to be opportunistic and would rather steal a nice mullet from the osprey than catch their own but I have often seen them dive near the Bayou.  Still, the squirrels and birds were in a tizzy with the large visitor in "their" territory.  The bird feeders had been well stocked earlier this morning so, if the eagle had wanted, it could have easily had supper.  

  Personally, I think the eagles are searching for a quieter nesting grounds.  For years now, the birds have been nesting on the island across the Bayou but the place is full of construction work and the birds are having to vacate their home.  I am in hopes that the two pairs of eagles will find the Bayou and woods behind the Little Bayou House as promising nesting sites.  It would be nice to have them here. Hopefully, the pair of eagles will linger and I can get some beautiful photographs of them.  BUT...the other critters need to be careful! 

Destructive Little Critters!

  Occasionally, a strange beetle or other creepy-crawly critter will catch my eye as I wander around the woods or creek bed. The fallen logs and leaf mulch are a haven for the critters and, if one has a keen eye or is just interested, one of the insects can be spied.  This afternoon, I, once again, escaped the confines of the sick house and made my way down through the mire to the creek.   Tomorrow, torrential rainstorms will pound the area making this particular hike inaccessible.  Most of the area will be flooded making it unsafe to tread there as footing would be unsure.  Once I found a sunny spot beneath the leaf canopy, my search for any critter life began.  Most of the insects are still dormant but telltale signs of their past activities was rampant.

  On a felled pine limb, the bark was crumbly and easily removed.  Slowly peeling back the outer layer, a network of tunnels was revealed.  A good bit of the sealed tunnels was intact.  Sawdust ladened excrement "roofs" laid neatly above each burrow.  This was the work of the woodborer larvae as they chewed their way through the wood.  These larvae can ruin more of the pine wood forests than any other critter.  

  As I sat inspecting the damage done to this one piece of wood, it made me almost thankful that our woods are not heavy with pine trees.  Hurricanes took their toll on the tall trees plus we have recently had a number of lightning strikes on the remaining few.  Perhaps these particular beetles will find little to infest and die out on their own.  Destructive little creatures!

A Change In Diet!

  Well, now.  This was something that I did not expect!  This afternoon, I watched as an osprey was hovering over the Bayou in search of a mullet to have for supper.  There were plenty of tiny mullet but, obviously, none suited the osprey's taste.  After a while, the bird tired and flew to the top of the dead pine tree to rest.  From its vantage point, it could still watch the water for a school of mullet to enter the Bayou but it could do so from its place of comfort.  I watched the bird while it watched the fish.  Then....the unexpected.  Both for the bird and for me!

  A few limbs down from the bird was an abandoned woodpecker hole.  All birds seem to love the dead pine trees!  While the holes have not been used recently by the woodpeckers, flying squirrels made their nests in the holes.  They have free run of the network of holes in the old tree.  Few predators bother the flying squirrels this far from the ground.  No, the osprey did not decide to change its diet to include flying squirrels but, much to my surprise, it did indeed stray from its regular diet of fish.  

  I noticed the osprey watching something on the tree but could not, for the life of me, see what had caught its attention.  Then, in an instant, the osprey had its dinner...a strange dinner...but dinner all the same.  And, the bird did the flying squirrels a favor!  One predator had made its way up the tall pine to dine upon squirrel.  The osprey had caught a rat snake! 

  It is not unheard of but rather strange for an osprey to catch a snake.  Niney-nine percent of the bird's diet is fish.  I just happened to be at the right place, at the right time, to see it decide snake was easier to catch than fish!  I never expected that to happen!  The bird flew back to the top of the tree and clutched the snake for some time.  The snake tried to escape the talons but the bird held tight and kept ripping at the head.  After a bit, the osprey took off with its prize.  It flew home to its nest deep in the back of the Bayou.  Happy hunting, Osprey!  You just gave me a thrill!

The Secret of the High Nest

  High up in a pine tree in a tangle of smilax vines, there sits a tightly woven bird nest.  The nest is one that has been used for the past several years.  What started as a blue jay abode has now changed hands and has been reconstructed to suit the new residents.  While I could tell that the nest was being redone and is now occupied, I had no idea what type bird claimed the living space.  Then, for the past week, strange sounds have been emanating from said nest.  When Son and I first heard the sound, he made the remark that it sounded a lot like a hoarse squirrel albeit an hoarse, angry squirrel.  This made me giggle but I disagreed with him. Nope, it was definitely a bird.  What kind of bird eluded me but, still, a bird...perhaps an angry, hoarse bird?

  Every day as I worked the gardens, I heard the sounds.  It frustrated me that the identity remained a secret but I was not about to climb a thirty foot tall pine tree just to lay claim to the fact that I knew what bird was nesting there.  I did notice, however, that the sounds were part of a protective stance.  Each time another bird flew over the nest or a squirrel scampered up the tree, the raspy sounds were loud!

  Then today, I made quite the discovery and have about decided that the secret of the high nest has been solved...tentatively.  As I was easing my way around the marsh line, a Green Heron flew to the remains of an old pier.  This is nothing more than a couple of broken posts and a few boards but is a prime spot for the herons to hunt in peace.  They can sit on this perch and not feel threatened by land mammals.  This time, however, the Green Heron was more interested in my doings.  The bird eyed me cautiously as I neared the pine tree with the mystery nest.  It then let out a few strange squawks!  The unusual noises from the nest immediately answered!  Oh, my!  Do I have a pair of Green Herons nesting in the front yard?  

  I did a bit of research and, sure enough, Green Herons will reuse other birds' nests and do, indeed, use a threatening series of "kuks" to frighten other critters from the area.  I listened to recordings of the heron's calls and I do believe they are a match.  Tomorrow, when I hear the sounds coming from the nest, a comparison shall be made.  Hopefully, the secret of the high nest will be solved, once and for all!  Green Herons!  Imagine!

Go Where You Can Thrive

  Yesterday, I spent the afternoon photographing birds and critters down in the creek behind the Little Bayou House.  I had nothing better to do or, at least, I had nothing I would rather have done than tromp knee-deep in the ferns and spider lilies.  It is just a great way to escape from reality for a bit.  As I was trying to get a photograph of a Red-bellied Woodpecker, I noticed something a tad strange about the tree in front of me.  The bird had flown from a black gum tree to a longleaf pine and it was that pine that seemed unusual.  The limbs were gnarled and twisted into what almost seemed like knots.  Pondering this, I checked the other pines and saw that a few were in the same condition.  Others, however, had "normal" limbs.  What was up with the odd trees?

   Looking at the trees, I began to realize that they were all more or less in a "row" and other trees in that "row" were just as twisted. Perhaps these were all damaged by storm winds years ago.  Hurricanes spawn lots of tornadoes which could twist and tangle the limbs in such a manner.  Regardless of the force that was put on this tree, it stood fast.  While pines normally have a tendency to "top out" during hurricanes, this one held its ground. The winds twisted and turned the limbs as the storm ravaged the area.  After the hurricane passed, the tree continued to grow.  Instead of succumbing to the forces around it, the tree survived.  Its limbs now a tangled mess, strengthened as it grew. 

  Tromping about in the depths of the creek can bring a lot of things into a clearer perspective.  Life is short and you have to make do the best you can.  When life throws woes at you, it is best to use those to make yourself stronger.  Don't let others twist and turn you enough that you cannot thrive. What you do with your life does not matter diddlysquat to others in the long run, so I say, do what makes YOU happy.  Personally, the bog makes me happy so I am heading back tomorrow.  

Getting Rid of Poison Ivy

  Poison ivy is one of those plants that is the bane of most hikers.  I have yet to come across anyone that joyfully proclaims "I just love poison ivy!"  I cannot imagine why anyone would love it. Aside from the most obvious reason of it being a rash producing plant, it is one vine that is difficult to extract from the garden.  Once the ivy gets hold to some plot of ground, most efforts to eradicate it are futile.  Other than literally digging out the entire root ball by hand, there is just not much you can do.  Mother Nature, on the other hand, can do just about as she pleases with poison ivy or any other plant, for that matter.  Mother Nature is good!

  That said, I have found the one surefire method of ridding the place of poison ivy although it usually involves killing an innocent tree as well. Here, we fall back on the tactics of Mother Nature and her propensity of tossing lightning bolts around wherever she pleases.  Lately, we have been bombarded with lovely thunderstorms complete with the most devastating lightning that I have seen in a long while.  Just this summer alone, we have lost nigh on a dozen pine trees to strikes.  The most recent was a tall pine right on the marsh edge that was entwined with not only grapevines but also poison ivy.   When Mother Nature zapped the tree during one of her temper tantrums, the tree died.  The jolt also killed both the grapevine and the poison ivy.  So, although I hated losing another tree, I was just as happy to see the poison ivy meet its demise! Gone!  Kaput!  Dead!  Yay!

  Now there is just one problem that remains.  Since the pine tree is dead and sits not too far from the shed, we probably should remove it.  While I do not mind using a piece of pine in the fireplace occasionally, it is not the ideal firewood.  Add to that, the ivy vine that wraps the tree from top to bottom and the wood is just not worth the effort or possibility of getting a bad rash.  Smoke from a burning vine can cause the rash to be quite nasty!  Hopefully, the grapevines will hold the tree in place until the top rots and falls. This should protect the shed from the towering tree and me from a nasty, itchy rash.

Teeny, Tiny Tree

  I have this weird sense of curiosity when it comes to my surroundings.  I want to see the "unseeable". I want to find out how things of nature "work".  I blame my granddad for this as he was always stressing the idea that I should observe everything around me.  "You never know just what might be under a rock or hiding on a leaf.  Make sure you actually see what you are looking at and make sure you look at what you see." Good advice since a lot of folks can go through an entire day without ever seeing what is under their own feet!  

  Michael and I were busy hauling plants into the greenhouse in preparation of the wintry weather.  One of the large pots held several small shoots of an Aloe plant that I was rooting.  Aloe is one of the plants that I deem as a necessary part of the herb garden so I made sure to protect each one.  This one, however, had a tiny addition to the pot.  Evidently a seed from a pine cone had fallen in beside the Aloe shoots.  In one corner a sprig of green was being bowed over by a winged seed.   The wee, little pine tree could not even support the very thing giving it life.  Aww, poor little tree!

  Now, I should have pulled the miniature tree from the pot.  I do not need more pine trees in the yard and it surely should not stay in the pot!  Looking at that tree fighting for a chance at life made me feel guilty about ripping it out by the roots.  How sad.  If we went around pulling out and discarding every  tiny sprout, soon there will be no trees.  Yep, a two inch tall wisp of a tree tugged at heartstrings.  The tree will be given a chance.  Tomorrow, the tiny tree will be transplanted into its very own pot and eventually will find a home in the woods near the creek.  I guess one more pine tree cannot hurt.  After all, we lost three to lightning strikes earlier this year.  Perhaps this one will be a fine replacement of one of those.  Just think.  If Granddad had not stressed the fact of being observant, I may not have ever noticed the little tree.  With that observation, a tree shall live.  Thanks, Granddad! At least some of the lessons you tried to teach me are still being used! 

Powerful Stuff!

  The storm grumbled for quite a while off north of us before descending on the Bayou in a rage!  The winds picked up, the rains came and the thunder rolled.  It was the lightning, however, that was the star of the show.  One strike after another pounded just out of close range as my son, Michael, and I sat at the supper table.  I had decided to cook early just in case the storm knocked out the power.  Then, within just a couple of minutes....Wham!  Wham!  Wham!  Three strikes close enough that the Little Bayou House actually shook with the force.  The last of the three was so close that it concerned me a bit as I was afraid that the lightning might have struck the new shed.  From the back door, I could smell pine sap.  Well, I guess at least I knew what to look for when went searching for the poor tree that was zapped.

  Sure enough, directly behind the shed in a group of three trees, a tall pine was scarred from top to bottom.  The lightning bolt had cut a wide slash winding around the tree. At some levels, it looked as if some giant rodent had gnawed at the bark of the tree.  The slash oozed with sap filling the air with the thick scent of pine.  Wow!  I am sure glad that I was safe inside during this storm! The sheer power behind the lightning bolts is mind-boggling.

  As I sit writing this, I can hear the storm as it moves out over the Gulf but, also, hear another in the distance coming our way. These late afternoon storms powered by the heat and humidity make for interesting times.  As darkness starts to envelop the Bayou, I prepare myself for another evening of dazzling light shows.  I love living on my Bayou!

A Tall Tale...or the Benefits of Being Short!

Growing up, I always yearned to be tall.  My sister and I were surrounded by tall brothers.  Each of them towered over us with their six feet plus height.  She and I were always the recipients of some good-natured teasing by these tall, lanky brothers of ours.  We had to take it in stride and turn the tables on them by asking them to "reach" things for us that we could have easily done so with the step stool. "One of you boys will have to put this box on the top shelf..I cannot reach it."  "One of you tall guys will have to clean the top of the refrigerator..I cannot reach it."  "You tall fellows will have to pick persimmons..I cannot reach them."  It was great!  Susan and I learned quickly that our height issues could be a positive thing!  Whew!  Sometimes being short is not all that bad!

About three weeks ago, we had a tremendous thunderstorm roll through the area. It was one of those loud storms that dumped little or no rain. The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed but always at a distance until one "blast" startled us all! Somewhere near something had been struck.  Thank goodness the Little Bayou House had come through unscathed!  After the storm passed, I headed outside to investigate.  I could find nothing that looked any worse for wear so I assumed that the strike had been further away than I thought.  Everything looked fine and I could smell no pine sap which would be a telltale sign that a pine tree had been the victim of the lightning strike.  The incident was soon forgotten and all was well on the Bayou.

Fast forward to today!  I was on the pier enjoying a bit of late afternoon relaxation when I saw an egret flying over the Bayou.  Although there was nothing extraordinary about that, watching it caused me to see something else.  On the other side of the Bayou, the tallest pine tree was burnt to a crisp!  The brown of the needles was in sharp contrast to all of the green leaves of the other trees.  Ahh, now I see what the lightning chose as its target.  I had always heard that lightning strikes tall things more often than things lower to the ground.  Obviously, this must be true.  This lone Loblolly Pine tree stands a good twenty feet taller than the surrounding Live Oaks and Black Gums.

Ok, brothers dear, this just goes to show that sometimes it truly pays to be short!  I have embraced my shortness and it is wonderful!

Candles on my tree!

Back in the day, Mom used to always herald in spring with the announcement that the pine tree candles were visible.  When I was a wee tot, I had no clue what this meant.  I would stare and stare at those pine trees with the full expectation of seeing one lit up like a Christmas tree.  It never happened.  Stare as I may, I never once saw any candles..lit or not..in the top of the pine trees.  I began to ponder if this was akin to the faces Granddad would tell me were peering out from flowers.  Adults always seemed to be telling youngsters things that just were not so!  Faces in flowers..candles in trees..who ever heard of such things?  Once I aged a bit, it finally dawned on me just what Mom seeing.

Come to find out, Mom was actually using a proper term for the new growth shoots on pine trees.   The new growth shoots are usually covered with reddish-brown or white scales and point upwards toward the sky.  From a distance, they do resemble the old-fashioned candles that used to adorn Christmas trees.  (Of course, they are not lit like the Yule candles!)  Later as the shoots mature, they turn green and start to spread outward.  These are the needles that we are used to seeing on pine trees.

While Mark and I were out on one of our daily hikes about the hillside, he called my attention to the candles in the pines.  Hmmm...this cannot be!  It is far too late for the trees to be candling!  I looked up and, sure enough, one pine was in the late stage of candling.  When we examined nearby pines, we noticed that those had long since put on their needles.  Those trees already had large cones dangling from the limbs.  Why was one tree so much later with its new growth?  I could understand if the late tree had poorer soil or was exposed to harsher weather conditions but all should be the same with each tree in this stand.  They are so near together that even soil conditions should be identical.  Did one tree just forget to wake up this spring?  Perhaps our crazy, mixed up weather confused the tree?  Who knows?  Then, again, perhaps this tree is smart.  Tonight's weather forecast calls for more winter-like dealings!  Not so cold as our neighbors to the north but still cold for here on the Bayou.  Brrr...you have to be kidding me!  In the forties?  Tonight?  In May?  Maybe that pine tree should light those candles.  A little warmth might feel good!