Being Cautious Is A Good Thing

   Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, is normally a pretty brave (if not heroic) cat.  He has no qualms about attacking anything that he thinks is a threat to me.  I have had dogs be protective but never a cat.  Bat is. More than once, he has come to my rescue.  Snakes seem to be his number one target.  As I age, my eyesight is far from what it used to be so tromping around the Bayou is a bit iffy.  I feel safe, however, as Bat never leaves my side and can sniff out a snake in a heartbeat.  

  Lately, things have been a bit different.  He still is always at my side but his demeanor has changed. Where he was always audacious, he is now cautious.  Highly cautious...almost always on edge as if there is a great threat lurking just around the next bend.  It was curious but, last night, an answer to his wariness was found.

  Son has been setting out a game camera recently.  Mark bought this just to see what was prowling around the property while we sleep.  Most nights, the camera picked up the usual raccoons and possums but last night was different.  A large coyote was traipsing just where Bat and I usually go on our predawn hikes about the hillside.  While the photograph is blurry due to the movement of the animal, there is no denying its identity.  Also, it is obvious that this is a predator much larger than Mr. Bat.  The cat honestly needs to be on high alert while out and about...and...I suppose I should be, as well.  I feel sure that Mr. Bat would come to my rescue as usual but, at the same time, there is no need to put him in danger.  Coyotes are not to be messed with and usually where there is one...there are more.  Mr. Bat and I shall have to be alert as we hike.  

Dot!

   For the past few weeks, crows have been visiting the yard quite often.  They come with their usual ruckus and nosiness.  Even a single crow can throw the whole place upside-down because of the incessant cawing.  All of the songbirds go into a frenzy.  The Critter Neighborhood Watch Group get themselves all tied up in a tizzy trying to scare the crow away or, at least, let everyone else know that a "wicked" bird is in the area. (like the other birds could not hear it on their own).  

  While I like crows, I do not like some of their actions.  There is only one reason for the crows to be lingering about the place.  Nope, they are not wreaking havoc on my cornfield because I do not have one.  These birds are here to raid the songbirds' nests.  They will steal the eggs and even the baby birds.  The same goes for squirrels' nests.  Baby squirrels are not overlooked by the marauding crows.  This saddens me but I understand that it is all a natural occurrence so I try to not interfere...too much.

  The single crow visiting today was high in the top of a dead oak tree.  With the branches being leafless, the crow could see the entire yard.  It had that "bird's eye view" of any nearby nests.  When I heard the bird cawing, I set out to shoo it away from the wrens' nest.  Perhaps, I could save her little ones.  The crow only stayed a few moments before flying across the Bayou but not before I got a few photographs.  

  Once viewing the pictures, I realized that I had a name for this particular crow.  This was Dot...male or female.  Dot was named because the bird had a single white dot on its face.  Whether this was a marking on the feathers or simply something stuck there, I will never know.  It is most likely a tick that has attached itself to a "safe haven" on the bird's face as it is a difficult spot for any bird to preen.  Thankfully for the crow, if it is indeed a tick, there will be no long term ill effects.  The tick will eat and when full will eventually drop from the bird.  Even predators have predators, I guess.

The Making of a Garden Cat

   Since I have been pretty much the only "mother" that this rescue cat has ever known, he treats me as if he is my true kid...a toddler but a kid nonetheless.  He follows me just about everywhere I go.  My hikes will never be the same with an inquisitive cat on the trail.  Critters are not keen on "posing" for photographs while there is a potential predator nearby.  I do not blame them.  This cat is proving to be quite the hunter!  So far, he has only been interested in shrews, mice and rats and is highly praised if he presents one to me, whereas, if he shows any bit of stalking birds, he is reprimanded.  I know it will happen but, hopefully, the birds will take flight before he gets too near.  That said, the cat does show a high interest in protecting the gardens and greenhouse from the aforementioned critters.  Bat is becoming quite the garden cat!

  One of his favorite places (also mine) is the greenhouse.  This time of year, the greenhouse provides a bit of warmth and, also, blocks the cold winds.  Bat and I can be found there in the early morning hours after our trip to the pier.  I putter among the plants and he stalks anything that wiggles.  This morning, he was highly interested in a tunnel under the prayer plant.  His sniffing did not provide any results so he decided it was time to play a game of "Hide and Seek".  As I moved plants in more favorable spots, he pounced in and among the pots. 

  While I have been criticized for allowing Bat to be a mostly outdoor cat, I feel it is necessary.  Here, he has about 20 acres of family owned land to explore and keep rodent free.  I have always said that any critter that calls the place home has to earn his keep.  We have only had two pets that were more lackadaisical in that area and both were elderly when they arrived.  The others quickly came to understand that "everyone works".  Bat is off to a good start.  If he just keeps the gardens and greenhouse pest free, I will be one "proud mama".

Not an ounce of truth...

  It was a grey morning here on the Bayou...grey and chilly.  As I grow older, the winter's chill gets to me.  I feel it now whereas cold never bothered me in the past.  Perhaps it is a rite of passage.  When you are young and full of energy, even the weather does not stop you but as you age, lingering a bit longer around the old woodstove is necessary.  You deserve it. I deserve it.  So...I did linger...but not before a quick run down to the pier.  That comes without thinking...just do it.  Every last morning after the first mug of coffee, the stroll down the hillside and to the end of the pier is a necessity.

  This morning, only a young raccoon was found out and about.  The little fellow was putting into practice all of the hunting and fishing skills he was taught last year.  Belly deep in the cold water did not seem to bother him at all as his front paws skillfully swished around in the mud.  This lesson was taught by his mother and, obviously, he learned it well.  Swish!  Swish!  A tiny crab was caught and the coon had a bit of breakfast.

  Oddly enough, most of us were taught that raccoons wash their food by swishing it around in water.  After watching the critters, it is easy to see that there is not an ounce of truth in that lesson.  Raccoons have a very highly established sense of touch.  Water heightens that in the coon's paws.  When you see one "washing" its food, it is actually "feeling" it.  A raccoon knows exactly what it finds underwater or in the mud and has no desire to cleanse it.  This is its hunting technique.  A coon does not "look" for food...it "feels" for it. When you think about it, the method is spectacular.  Since the raccoon "feels" for its food, it can keep its head up and be alert for predators.  

  The little coon worked the shallows for a while before scampering into the marsh.  It was bedtime for the little one.  Either it would hole up under some of the marsh mats or work his way up the hill to burrow down in a hollow tree.  Come nightfall, he will be back on "active duty" hunting for enough food to fill his belly.  Me?  I headed back to the Little Bayou House for another mug of coffee and the warmth of the woodstove.

World's Laziest Hunter!

   Bat, the cat, is coming into his own now.  He is still technically a kitten as he is not even a year old but he thinks he has the power of a mountain lion.  He thinks that...until one particular feral cat puts him in his place.  That cat is a bit larger and a bit more "street wise".  He has been around the block and can take care of himself.  Bat, being the young whippersnapper he is, torments the older cats until they finally smack him.  I have no problem with that as they have to all live around here and should have a pecking order.  Bat, being the youngest and the newcomer, is on the lowest rung of that order.  Still, he is doing well adjusting to life as it is.  I actually did not have much confidence in his ability to do much more than be a nuisance until today.  Today changed that opinion.  I hope there are many more todays for that cat.

  I was moving sacks of concrete from the front of the house to the shed when I noticed Bat stalking something by the canebrake.  I thought the silly cat was chasing another butterfly or perhaps another bee.  The butterfly flitted away but the bee was caught and immediately released.  Bat had a swollen lip for a day, afterwards.  Suddenly, Bat started flipping something up in the air.  THAT was not bug!  Time to investigate!

  To my surprise, Bat finally made a true catch!  Although not a rat, it was close enough to be promising.  The cat had caught a shrew.  Normally, I do not look as shrews as pests but if this catch can entice Bat to catch some of the rice rats that have moved into the shed and greenhouse, I was willing to let him have the critter.  I watched as he played with it for a bit.  Then, he plopped to the ground and simply batted his prey.  One paw would slowly pat the shrew a bit before Bat appeared to be going to take a nap.  Oh, geez!  Most animals would be fired up after catching their prey.  Not Bat.  He is the world's laziest hunter!  Nap time!

Bat and the Hawk

  Early yesterday morning, I heard the call of a hawk on the far shore of the Bayou.  The call was not the usual, high-pitched scream of the redtail hawk but rather a series of short, raspy calls.  The ruckus kept up for the entire time I was working.  Later, as I was planting broccoli in the lower garden, I heard the call again.  This time, it was very close!  I looked up to find a red-shouldered hawk in the top of an oak tree just down the hill toward the pier.  So much for planting that broccoli!  I grabbed the camera and hoped for a shot.

  The bird never even acted startled as I made my way down the board path.  It obviously felt secure enough on its high perch.  I got my photograph then realized that the bird was very intent on watching something in the Small Gardens.  Uh, oh!  I knew Bat, the cat, was running helter-skelter through the pathways.  That rascal had better be careful!  I made my way back to the Small Gardens to search for the cat and found him staring right back at the hawk.  Well, at least, he knew the bird was there and a potential threat.

  While I personally have never known a red-shouldered hawk to attack a cat, we did have an osprey make an attempt on our old cat, Ms. Put.  The Bayou Queen cat came through with flying colors (literally as the osprey lost quite a number of feathers during the tangle).  That, in itself, was a first for me since ospreys very rarely seek anything other than fish as prey.  I would have never believed it had I not been in the yard at the time.  Still, the hawk has the potential to attack any small animal even though they usually have preferred prey.  Bat, the Bayou Prince, had better watch his step with the hawk in the area.  He is not nearly as a seasoned hunter as the Bayou Queen was. 

A New One!

   Since I cannot sleep past 4am any longer, I find I am in the gardens earlier and earlier.  Sometimes, the coffee is sipped in pure darkness.  The cool morning air, the soft chirping of frogs and crickets and the smell of a fresh new day (yes, it really does smell fresh just before dawn), all make for sensory overload.   As soon as the sun starts to peep over the pines, I wander the gardens.  Plans are made for the day's work and visits are made with my critter friends.

  Today, I made a new friend.  When a flower pot was moved, an unusual spider skittered out from beneath.  Well, now!  I have never seen you before!  This called for a bit of studying of the critter (and photos) before it slipped beneath the mulch.  The spider was gorgeous! 

  After a bit of research of Mississippi spiders, the critter has been identified as a Two Lined Stealthy Ground Spider.  Like all spiders, this one uses venom to kill its prey but unlike most of the others, this one does not spin a web as a trap.  The spider actually stalks its prey and is so fast that the other critter never knows what got it.  Also, unlike most other spiders, this one is extremely shy which is why I have never seen one before.  The critter will swiftly scamper away from any disturbances and seek shelter under some form of cover (like my garden mulch).  *Its venom does not cause problems for humans as it is prey specific.

  I am actually very pleased at finding a new spider in the garden and hope that the excessive amount of mulch will encourage it to stay.  With it guarding the ground level and the orchard and orb weavers guarding the upper levels, the pest numbers will be greatly reduced.  Besides, this one is such a pretty thing and I adore having pretty things in my gardens.

Acrobatic Bird

   Early this morning, I did my usual...take the mug of coffee to the Small Gardens, feed the birds and then sit and enjoy their company.  Heavy cloud cover kept the darkness lingering a bit longer than normal.  As I watched the   "feeder crew", I could hear a bird calling in the treetops.  It had a single, clear call that rang through the stillness of the morn.  Ahh, this friend would not be visiting the feeders and, if I wanted to see it, my sights would have to be lifted.  A Great Crested Flycatcher was somewhere above!

  I scanned the grayness and soon found the bird.  In the top of a tall, water oak, my friend sat precariously on a twig.  The bird continued its calling for a good ten minutes.  Then, suddenly, it did what appeared to almost be a "backflip" off the branch and swooped down through the clearing.  It was off to catch breakfast!  After just a few moments, the bird was back.  It did this several times while I watched.  

  The Great Crested Flycatcher is a patient bird that sits and waits on a treetop perch.  When it spies an insect, it swoops down after it only to immediately return to the high limb.  It prefers this method of hunting over the scratch and peck like other birds.  The bird was doing a quite nice job of entertaining me while I sipped my coffee.  Its acrobatic stunts were pretty impressive! Then, both the bird and I decided it was time for other things.  It flew to the back of the property and I headed to the vegetable garden to plant cucumbers and radishes.

A Mullet Is Better Than A Snake!

   Early this morning, I was out hauling the hurricane debris mulch that I had cut yesterday.  This stuff is grand for the gardens and it is free for the taking!  I pushed that wheelbarrow up the hill so many times that my legs ache this evening!  It was during one of the "raking times" that I heard quite the ruckus going on near the pier.  Two ospreys appeared to be scuffling over one prey.  Obviously, one osprey made a catch and the other wanted it.  The battle went on even as they flew toward the woods.  I was surprised to see that the source of interest was actually a snake!  Ospreys usually prefer to eat fish.  

  Later in the day, I actually managed to photograph an osprey with its catch.  The bird sat on a pier post devouring a mullet.  It was funny because the osprey decided that I was not a threat and actually finished its feast before flying off to the back of the Bayou.  It was taking no chances with this meal!

The "Down Under" Birds

   I love feeding the songbirds that are fulltime residents or are migrating visitors to the Bayou.  I consider the birds among my friends so  why wouldn't I share a meal with them?  You can imagine how it wounded me to see that I was fattening them up for the small hawk that is also a resident here.  The Cooper's Hawk found that the birds were easy pickings from the feeders as it sat in the nearby hickory tree.  After finding the telltale feathers of a recent kill, I decided to stop putting seeds in the feeders.  I just could not...would not enable a hawk to have easy access by my doings.  If the hawk caught a bird anywhere else, so be it but I would not make them "sitting ducks", so to speak.  The songbirds did not understand this sudden lack of foodstuffs and often scolded me if I was nearby.  It was a quandary.  Do I neglect the songbirds?  Do I allow the hawk to feed?  Puzzlements.

  Well, things always have a way of working out for the best.  The constant scolding from the cardinals, chickadees and titmice finally convinced me to buy more birdseed.  To semi-protect the little birds I had to come up with a new plan.  I had to outsmart the hawk or, at least, make it more difficult for the predator to feast upon the songbirds.  Now, the birds have gone "down under".  No, I did not send them to Australia.  I simply put the seed under the flower benches next to Puddle Pond.   The smaller birds eat in peace and drink safely from the Pebble Creek under the cover of overhanging plants.  In fact, the hawk seems to have gotten the idea that it would be simpler to look elsewhere for prey.  It has not been visiting as often as it had in the past.  Maybe the birds are tad safer now.

Not Today, Buddy!

  Physical therapy in the gardens has to be the best way.  Strengthening those muscles along with fresh air cannot be wrong.  Plus, I get to watch the critters that visit.  Early this morning, I was captivated by a grasshopper, of all things.  While I hoisted weights, the grasshopper basked in the sunshine.  The grasshopper seemed to not have a care in the world and, for a while, I agreed with him.  As far as I could see, the critter was enjoying life to its fullest but that changed within a snap.  Danger lurked in the mimosa tree!  The grasshopper was unaware that he was in a predator's sight.  He lingered on unaware.

 A flash of red told me that my friend, the cardinal, was searching for breakfast.  Each morning, I set out seed for the family of cardinals.  The male always comes first to make sure it is safe before calling his family in to feast.  This morning, however, the cardinal had his eye on the grasshopper!  I was torn between letting the bird catch the insect or helping the bug escape.  Either way, there would be a loser.  Was it to be the bird's breakfast or the bug's life.  Nature will be nature so I refrained from scooting the grasshopper under the ginger plants.  We would just have to see how this played out if I was to be neutral.  "Let nature take its course" has always been a difficult task for me to follow but...I lifted weights and watched.  The drama that was to be never unfolded.  The bird was distracted by another male cardinal and they went chasing each other in a territorial battle.  The grasshopper was safe for the time being.

  It has long been thought by most folks that Northern Cardinals only eat seeds.  Their thick bills do lend themselves to cracking the shells but about 30% of their diet is made up of insects.  They will often take moths, katydids, flies, spiders and, yes, grasshoppers as tasty treats.  In fact, the parent birds feed their nestlings on mostly a diet of insects. So, had it not been distracted, the cardinal would have made short work of my grasshopper friend!

  

He Has Got To Go!

  Since Son is remodeling the shed, he had to do a good bit of cleaning before he started work.  Stuff had been shoved in there for the past ten years and instantly became lost.  He discarded 90% of the junk but a few items have to stay put right where they were tossed...at least for another couple of weeks.  Some old outdoor Christmas decorations were leaned against the side of the shed with good intentions of donating them.  Well, things happen and those things cause changes in plans. 

  A pair of wrens decided that their nest needed to be decorated for Christmas so they built it in the midst of the figures.  I have adamantly refused to move the decorations.  They will stay until the little ones fledge.  The eggs hatched two days ago and the mama and papa birds are busy creatures.  While I was out working in the gardens, it was nice to see the birds helping me find pests.  Then, it was a thrill to hear the little ones begging for their turn to be fed.  At one point, those hungry tweets were overpowered by terrified shrieks.  Oh, my!  I dropped everything except my trowel and raced to the shed.  A rather large, dirty yellow cat was attempting to raid the nest!  Ok, that was it, you nasty beast!  My trowel went sailing toward the feral cat.  Of course, my aim was way off and the plastic shovel hit the porch rail but the noise was enough to send the cat off in a hasty retreat.  

 I checked on the babies and they were fine.  They had hunkered down in the nest and the parent birds raised enough ruckus to draw my attention in plenty of time.  Now, however, I am worried that the cat will be back.  This feral cat has terrorized the place for too long.  He attacks Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princes Cat, marks the territory by spraying (and stinking up) the steps and is now trying to make a meal out of the baby birds.  I am thinking a trap may just be purchased real soon.  This thing has got to go. 

Lurking In the Mire!

  I have always been told not to go traipsing about in the marshes or on the mudflats.  Traversing the mudflats is impossible so that should go without saying.  By the second step, you are up to your neck in the soft mud and it is nigh on impossible to get out.  The mud here is not much different than what I imagine quicksand is.  You sink and the more you struggle, the deeper you go.  Wiggling only makes things worse.  As for gallivanting about the marsh, commonsense tells you that is not a wise choice...at least, not in the summertime.  It is relatively safe in the winter as the critters are either snoozing or sluggish.  Stepping on a cottonmouth or snapping turtle or stumbling in the path of a gator is not fun.

  The other day, I headed to the pier to bring a pail to Mark.  He was cleaning some fish and needed to tote them up to the house.  When I passed the mudflats, there was just enough water to allow for the little mullet to swim happily about the place.  A slight movement told me that something else was lurking in that mire.  That slight movement was enough to scare the school of mullet into a frenzy.  Something fierce must be under that murky water!

  The water in the Bay and Bayou is known to be muddy making viewing anything beneath the surface just about impossible.  I peered through the turbid water.  Something was there, I just knew it.  It took a few moments for the mud to settle and my eyes to adjust.  Yep, there was a clawed foot!  A snapping turtle was hiding beneath the surface!  The predator was feeding on the mullet and bull minnows that were trapped in the small inlet.  That predator would not hesitate to give a nasty bite to anything or anyone who treads in its territory.  I think I will stay on the pier for now!

 

Just When You Thought It Safe To Go Out The Back Door!

  Sometimes, it takes a tragedy for us to see beauty.  Last evening, I headed out to the compost pile to discard the scraps of the day's meals.  Several baby raccoons visit the heap each night to feast upon our leftovers.  Tossing the scraps not only helps to clean the kitchen, it also feeds some of my bayou friends.  This has become the nightly ritual of house cleaning!

  It was on the way back into the house that I noticed another friend in distress.  A bright red spider had fallen from above the door and down to the back porch floor.  The lovely creature was clearly not doing too well but I could see no sign of injury.  The poor thing writhed in agony as I watched.  Then, as if on cue, a small black wasp flew in and attempted to show me who was boss.  No, it did not sting but rather tried to intimidate me by getting in my face.  Hmmph!  Sorry, wasp. I was more interested in the spider.  

  The wasp settled down and soon showed me why it was so upset with my presence.  The wasp had obviously stung the spider and was attempting to carry it off to its nest.  The wasp was a ground wasp that needed the spider as food for its upcoming offspring.  The wasp, being much smaller than its prey, tugged and tugged at the huge spider.  Finally, it made progress and soon disappeared over the edge of the porch floor.  The show had ended for the evening.

  The spider was one of the many orb weavers that inhabit the area.  This one was called a Cross Spider and for good reason.  The white markings on its abdomen were almost the perfect replica of a highly ornate cross!  What a thing of beauty!  Another fact noticed was that the abdomen was quite swollen. This spider was gravid!  Well, that saddened me to no end.  No baby spiders would be roaming the place any time soon.

  The wasp, on the other hand, was a small black wasp.  Yep...it was actually called (for the lack of a better name) a Small Black Wasp by an "knowledgeable" insect identifier group.  Hmmm..well, I could have identified it as that had I only used my head.  It was small and it was black.  So...Small Black Wasp, it is.  These wasps are ground wasps meaning they dig holes in the ground to use as nests.  The female wasp hunts spiders to sting and paralyze.  She, then, hauls the spider to the her hole and proceeds to shove the spider down into one of the several cells. She pokes the spider into a cell then lays an egg near it before capping off that cell.  Keep in mind, the spider is not dead.  It is merely paralyzed so it will not decay before the wasp egg hatches.  The wasp larvae will begin to eat the spider while it is still alive.  

  That circle of life takes a funky turn with these two.  In the current case, the wasp managed to overpower the spider.  That made the wasp the predator.  However, it could have been just the opposite.  Had the wasp been caught in the spider's web, a different scenario would have taken place.  The spider would have eaten the wasp and it would have nourished her eggs.  The baby spiders would have been born.

  It just goes to show that you never know what is happening just outside the back door.  Predators of all sizes and shapes can be lurking directly above your head or below your feet!  Take a look outside!  Things are interesting!

Face To Face WIth The Predator!

  There is one thing that is always holds true here on the Bayou.  You can always depend on something to catch your interest.  While it may not be something that you enjoy, it will be interesting.   Today's bit of (morbid) entertainment came around noontime.  I was cooking lunch when a strange noise alerted me that something not-so-nice was happening in the back yard.  Since we recently lost an entire nest of baby birds to some marauder, I figured that I had better investigate this call for help.

  As I quietly slipped out the back door and down the back steps, I had no idea that I would literally come face to face with a predator.  A snake was sort of precariously dangling from the top of the shed.  The twisting and torquing of the body told me that this snake was the cause but not the source of the noise.  The snake was in the process of trying to swallow a green tree frog.  This was a juvenile gray rat snake that was probably only about 15 inches in length and maybe a half inch thick.  The frog was a normal sized tree frog.  Even though the snake had quite a good grip on the frog, the frog was doing its best to escape.  One of the escape tactics the frog was employing was to inflate its body to nearly twice its normal size.  This indeed was helping as the snake was having a difficult time swallowing such a round object.  The squeaking sound that I heard was the frog being squeezed by the snake's jaws.

  My first instinct was to help the poor, doomed frog but, at the urging of Son, I had promised to stop interfering with nature.  "You have to let things happen, Mom."  So, I got to pondering about that snake and that frog.  I was not there to protect the insects that the frog ate before it met up with the snake so I should not protect the frog just because the snake needs a meal.  Plus, I really like rat snakes and this little one would have a doozy of a time trying to catch anything larger than the frog.  Given time, the snake will grow and move onto larger prey.  Perhaps it will clear out the shed of any rats or maybe catch a few of the squirrels that are devouring the peaches.  Any which way, the snake had his meal and I had the opportunity to learn a bit more about snakes and frogs.  Oh, and about the baby birds mentioned earlier, that dirty deed was definitely NOT done by this little rat snake.  Snakes swallow their prey whole....lets just leave it at that.

Following The Dog's Lead

  For the past two mornings, Mr. PJ has been a bit reluctant to do his morning business far down the hill.  We usually take a hike along the marsh edge until he comes to his favorite spot.  He then exits the path in a small clearing and does his thing.  Yesterday and today, however, he has stubbornly tried to go back to the Little Bayou House long before we get to the clearing.  He swerves, goes around me and tries to retrace his steps.  He just plain does not want to go down the path.  Later in the day, he has no problem with following the same route.  Now I am wondering what he senses just beyond the next curve.  Our hikes are early morn and darkness still lingers beneath the heavy oaks.  The path is lined with underbrush and vision is often obscured by both shadows and trees.  Is there something lurking there?  Is something just waiting for us to haphazardly walk into range?  I have no idea.  Both days, I have given in to his better judgment and we have returned to the house.  

  This morning's hike did have me a bit antsy even before we reached the "dreaded" spot.  I kept having the feeling that I was being watched.  My uneasiness coupled with that of the old dog, was enough to make me start really looking for the "culprit".  After a few moments, I found my "staring eyes".  A great blue heron was looking down upon us from a tall pine.  I figured it was his stare that sent chills up my spine but this was far from where PJ has his senses alerted to something unseen.  The heron was not the cause of the old dog's wariness.  Something else was just down the path!

  For now, I am thinking that the dog and I should wait until the sun rises over the pines before we venture too far into the dark path.  There must be a good reason for him to be hesitant.  Mr. PJ is old and not as steady as he once was.  While I know he would try his best to defend me from whatever "evil" lurks in the shadows, there is no need for him to be stressed.  Whether this unseen foe is a coyote, bobcat or some other "predator", tempting fate is not a good thing.  Mr. PJ will just get to sleep a bit longer on these upcoming colder mornings.  I am thankful for his alertness and for his stubbornness!  Good job, Old Boy!

Camouflage...It Serves Well

  Some critters depend on camouflage to protect them from the many predators that roam the Bayou.  Sometimes, a critter is too small to put up much of a fight against larger critters.  Sometimes, they lack "weapons" (claws, fangs etc.) to defend themselves.  If that flight mode is not the best move, freeze mode has to kick in.  More oft than not, the predator depends on movement to find its prey and if the freeze mode comes into play, camouflage serves well.  Being well camouflaged and as still as a church mouse, can mean the difference between life and death.

  This afternoon, the "freeze mode" was not necessary as I am not considered to be a predator to any of the critters that see me out and about.  They know that I mean no harm so they go about their business without worry.  A small sparrow busied itself near the palmetto clump while i was just a few feet away.  While the bird made no effort to conceal itself, I had to marvel at how well it blended with the background. Movement would be the only giveaway that the tiny bird was in the area.  For now, the bird could scratch in search of food without a care in the world.  Hopefully, it will always be that way but life is rough and the bird has to be wary.  Good luck. Little Friend, good luck.

  

Oh, the humidity!

  I have found it chilly for the past few days.  The temperatures  are not bad but the humidity is definitely trying to make us feel winter here.  We have had a good solid rain for two days now our next step of winter, fog, has arrived.  In the mornings, I cannot see the pier from the front steps.  It is almost as if the world ends about seventy-five feet in front of me.  A solid white wall blocks out anything beyond that point.  It is that fog that chills me to the bone.  At night, it creeps into the Little Bayou House like some thief ready to rob us blind but instead of taking anything, it leaves a certain stickiness on everything.  There is not much we can do about it other than deal with it.  Dehumidifiers cringe, shake and cower when meeting our type humidity.

 Early this morning, I took the old dog out for his morning stroll.  Since the pace has slowed to that of an elderly snail, I have plenty of time to photograph oddities along the way.  Once we neared the pier, a Great Blue Heron caught my eye.  Moe had come back to the pier expecting breakfast but none was proffered.  Not only did he go hungry, he had to hunker down against the fog. Poor Moe!  He looked downright miserable!

  Winter mornings complete with fog should be a boon to the herons.  The north wind exposes the mudflats and the fog shields the bird from being seen by its prey.  They can catch plenty of little mullet by just waiting.  This same fog does present its share of problems, however.  The drippy mess muffles all footsteps so larger predators can stalk the herons without a problem.  Coyotes and bobcats would love to dine upon a sizable bird like a heron.  

  Moe was either being lazy by staying on the pier or was being wary of his surroundings.  Either way, he was not catching any breakfast by sitting on the pier.  The old dog and I merely passed him by as we were ready to get out of the fog.  No handouts for the herons today.

A Battle For Life

  Sometimes life on the Bayou is not easy.  The critters here are in a constant battle for survival and it truly is the fittest that wins.  The stronger, braver and more cunning a critter is, the more it will get to eat.  It is evident that the weak will not survive long and if they do, it will be a struggle.

  This morning, I headed out the back door to do a bit of yard work.  Armed with a weed-trimmer, mower and snips, I was ready to tackle this rain-forest we used to call a yard.  Ducking under the peach tree, I plugged the trimmer cord into the outlet only to find that I had a large critter crawling up my arm.  Silly mantis!  I am not prey!  Gingerly, I set him on the workbench so I could continue my chores.  It did not take long before I realized that the chores would be postponed for a bit.  I had inadvertently set the praying mantis on the same board as a katydid.  The battle for life ensued and things did not bode well for the katydid.  A praying mantis is a formidable predator with a voracious appetite and the katydid looked mighty fine as a meal.  

  It became apparent that the katydid immediately realized that it was in extreme danger even though the two critters were not too much different in size.  Instead of fleeing, however, the katydid froze.  Normally, this defense would be somewhat effective if the katydid was on a plant and its natural camouflage could hide it but in the openness of the workbench, freezing just gave the mantis more of an opportunity to stalk the katydid.  At first, the mantis swayed back and forth in a gentle motion.  Then, it eased forward a bit.  The katydid stayed motionless.  Again, the mantis eased forward but slipped off the edge of the board to become almost hidden from view.  The mantis was sneaking up on the katydid!!!  Closer, closer...ever closer but so very slowly did the mantis creep. 

  Then, up on top of the board again and face to face with the katydid!  The mantis was about to dine upon the katydid!  As the mantis made its final lunge at the katydid, everything changed.  The katydid did a flying leap off of the workbench and into the grass below!  At first the mantis seemed confused that it did not have the other critter in a death grip!  However, it did not take long before the mantis spied the katydid just a few feet below and it, too, jumped off of the bench to the ground.  The chase was still on but this time, the katydid was more active about escaping.  The freeze method had not worked and almost made the katydid lose its life so now it was scrambling toward cover.

  This time, the praying mantis did not win.  The katydid escaped into the marigolds and the praying mantis slowly eased its way under the fig leaves for a wren family had made its way to the garden to hunt for breakfast.  Either of the insects would have been a prime target for the wrens.  Me?  I was late getting started with that yard work and had to hustle!  Too much time was spent dawdling as I watched the struggle for life.  Time to work! The battle between critters would just have to take place without me!

The Dining Table

  Down by the Frog Pond, there is a rather large piece of driftwood.  Driftwood is not naturally found in a man made pond but since I needed a "turtle ramp" to help the turtles climb up the steep, slippery sides, the wood was hauled up the hill from the marsh.  This piece and several others not only give the turtles an escape route but provide the other pond critters a handy shelter or perch...whichever is needed at the moment.  Today, a blue dragonfly was utilizing the wood as a dining table.

  The dragonfly was happily snatching up grasshoppers and katydids from the remnants of the garden.  With each catch, the dragonfly would fly back to the Frog Pond, alight on the driftwood and begin to devour is prey.  It was fascinating to watch this amazing creature while it was on the hunt.  Dragonflies can fly in any direction...not just forward.  They can fly up, down, sideways and even backwards.  Having two sets of wings with muscles that can work independently allows the dragonfly to change the angle of each wing.  This gives them the amazing flying skills.  The independently hinged wings makes them superior fliers.  They pretty much can out maneuver any prey.  Speed and endurance also play into the dragonfly's predatory skills.  They can fly up to 30mph and some species can fly across oceans during migration.  

  My little dragonfly was not out to set any records of speed, endurance nor agility.  He just wanted a meal.  The grasshoppers and katydids were readily available so he really did not have to work hard. My visit with him ended when he decided that a stinkbug should be on the menu.  Have at it, Dragonfly Buddy!  You can eat any bugs you want!