It has been ages....

   As saddening as it is, the old place is not what it used to be when we first built the Little Bayou House.  Then, the whole area was wooded with very few houses and those were the homes of family.  Now that lovely thing called progress has seen the wooded areas clear-cut and new houses built.  We do not know but a handful of our new neighbors on either side.  The Little Bayou House sits on one of the only pieces of ground that is still in its natural state.  The yard was cleared enough to plant gardens and fruit trees but the remaining property was left untouched.  The creek, marshes, boggy areas, and woods are all still intact and shall remain that way, if I have any say about it.

  With that clear-cutting came an influx of critters.  The poor animals had no place to go once their homes were literally smashed.  No one cared about the little ones that may have been in nests or dens.  More than once, babes were separated from their parents or just run over by tractors.  It broke my heart to hear their cries but there was nothing I could do but whisper a feeble prayer.  Without homes, the critters scrambled to the only area that offered refuge...our place.  Now, we are overrun with any and all critters.  This, in itself, has created problems.  Many went hungry and many fell to the over abundance of new predators.  Coyotes, bobcats, fox and raccoons all were in search of any food they could find.  The first three found easy prey in the numerous rabbits that had, at one time, led a peaceful life here.  Soon the rabbits were ravaged to the point of non-existence.  It has been ages since a rabbit has been seen on this entire hillside.

  I missed seeing the bunnies in the yard and even the gardens where they would nibble the cabbages.  I took it as a "sign of the times" and, even though I mourned the loss of bunnies, I dealt with it.  With that in mind, you can only imagine my elation in finding a single baby bunny this morning.  As I came off the pier, a slight movement caught my eye.  I was caught off-guard by the sight of the wee rabbit.  My heart flipflopped with joy!  If there is one baby, there has to be an adult pair!  Perhaps our bunnies are making a return!  

  It was not long, however, before the realization set in about the baby bunny's survival chances.  As I sat watching the tiny tot, I had a good talk with it about staying out of harm's way.  (Yes, I do talk with my bayou critter friends.)  I know the rabbit had no idea what the crazy woman was saying but it would occasionally look at me, cock its little head and look wistfully at me.  Oh, please...please let this bunny live.  I miss our rabbits so very much.  Stay safe, Little One, stay safe.

Cute and Cuddly Otters? Not!

   It boggles my mind how many times I am told "I would love to swim/play with the otters around your pier!"  No...NO!  No, you do not want to do this.  I agree that the critters are adorably cute but they are not playthings in any sort of way.  The otters are vicious predators that would just as soon attack anything/anyone they deem as a threat...especially when they have their young out and about.  As with any good parents, the otters are fiercely protective of their pups and will fight to the death to defend them.  So...no...you do not want to play with the otters.  Just don't.  

  Yesterday morning as we eased our way down the pier, a rather large otter could be seen swimming from my brother's pier.  The critter had raided the crab pots and had its breakfast in its jaws.  As soon as it reached our pier, it went straight up onto the platform and started eating that crab.  The mama otter tried to take a swipe at the crab and was met with a sharp reprisal.  This was the dad's meal and even she was not going to take it from him.  At  that very time, some yelps could be heard in the marsh just behind us.  Several pups were calling for their mom as they made their way from the den to the water's edge.  Since Mom was aware that Mark and I were on the pier, she slipped a bit farther down to the marsh edge and barked for her babes to come hither.  They followed her voice and were soon to be seen plopping from the marsh into the water.  From there, she coaxed them to my brother's pier and remained with them for the entirety of my stay on the pier.  As for the dad?  He went on his merry way after getting his belly full. 

The Wise Froglet

   If you watch the wild animals that live around you, it becomes apparent that it takes a lot of wit to survive.  Every day, there is a battle to find food and stay safe.  In a sense, it is a never-ending battle.  To my way of thinking, critters are a lot smarter than most people think.  Humans are always touted as "the smartest" or "wisest" but once you get to really studying the lives of critters, you will see that...well...that is probably just not so.  Humans may be smarter in some instances but animals have us beat in many ways.  Not many folks would ever stand a chance of survival in the wild.

  This morning, I was watching as a box turtle slid into the Frog Pond.  She does so daily as she is hunting tadpoles to fill her belly.  There has been competition in the pond lately as a water snake is in the same search.  The defenseless tadpoles seem to be the underdogs in this pond life.  They are soft and squishy with no defense mechanisms going for them whereas the snake and the turtle are stronger, faster and better protected.  I am starting to feel sorry for the tadpoles.  It seems that my once billion or so frogs are fast dwindling to predators.

  As soon as the turtle slid into the pond to forage beneath the waterlilies, a slight movement on the far side of the pond caught my eye.  One tiny froglet had climbed out of the water and slowly made its way up the stem of a Mexican Petunia  (Ruellia Simplex).  I shifted my position to get a better look at the tiny frog.  The little one was still morphing from being a tadpole as it had a tiny tail.  Even at that wee age, the frog knew it had to vacate the pond to escape being eaten.  It sought the supposed safety of land versus the dangerous water.  Little did it know that now it had other predators to fear.  Cats, coons, snakes, birds, lizards, other frogs and many other critters would be on the lookout for an easy meal.  Poor little froglet would have to learn how to hide and learn that art quickly. 

  Being a frog for only minutes, the little critter was already pretty smart.  After sunning for a brief time, it carefully made its way to the blackberry vines.  It clung to the bottom of a leaf in the midst of a veritable fortress of thorns.  The little frog could gain strength here and perhaps even catch a few tiny flies that were visiting the (past prime) berries.  Hopefully, the froglet will stay safe and that circle of life can continue.  In the meantime, a lot of its siblings were being chased relentlessly in the pond.  Life in the wild is not easy....critters have to be smart.  Good luck, tiny froglet!  You are going to need it.  I wish you well.

Mud Nests and Spider Catchers

   I am probably one of the few people who will go out of my way to save a critter.  No.  Let me rephrase that.  I am probably one of the few people who will go out of my way to save a wasp.  Not just any wasp but the mud dauber sort.  Most folks try to rid their homes and yards of the critters simply because of the "unsightly" nests they make.  A fist-sized ball of mud plastered to the side of the house is not to most folks' liking regardless of the value of the residents therein.  Those mud nests are housing the next generation of the mud daubers and, those, my friends, are highly valuable.  At least in my view, they are.  Son was uncovering the table saw when he accidently knocked a mud nest from the tarp.  Carefully, he toted the thing inside where I was canning pears and asked if I thought they would still live.  I was not sure.  Hopefully?  We put the nest openside down in the greenhouse and hoped for the best.  Son is about the same as I am when it comes to critters.

  Mud daubers are solitary wasps that are extremely slow to sting unlike their cousins the paper wasps or yellow jackets.  Mud daubers lack the nasty tempers of the others.  They go about their business of building their mud nests and then catching spiders or other insects to put inside with their eggs.  The same folks that get rid of the mud daubers will complain when they have spiders and caterpillars.  To my way of thinking, it is far better to let nature take its course.  Let the mud daubers live!  And, for that matter, let the spiders live (the ones that do not fall prey to the mud daubers!)

 

Jays vs Hawks

   The (Critter) Neighborhood Watch Clan has been on high alert for the past several weeks.  A pair of hawks has been lurking in the trees of the yard and have been snatching unsuspecting birds.  Several months ago, the same thing happened and I had to quit feeding the birds in the feeders.  Visiting the feeders made them fat, lazy and easy targets for the hawks.  After a few weeks, the hungry pair moved on and hunted elsewhere.  Not wanting to start the whole rigmarole over again, I took to spreading seeds on one of the flower benches.  That worked exceedingly well until squirrels and raccoons started ripping through the flower gardens in search of errant seeds.  The bench feeding had to stop and ground feeding commenced.

  Now, the hawks have decided that the birds being five feet from the house under the overhang of jasmine vines is an open invitation.   The predators have no problem zipping down from the hickory tree, dodging the roses and fence posts and swerving through the jasmine vines to pick off a dove.  It saddens me to find the piles of feathers left behind after the hawk devours its prey.  The latest find was that of a blue jay.

  But, as I said earlier, the Neighborhood Watch Clan is on high alert (literally high alert.)  It seems as if the blue jays have appointed themselves as guards over the other birds that come to eat.  There is a tall oak tree that has a few dead limbs at the very top (thanks to Hurricane Zeta).  Each morning at sunrise for the past two weeks, a blue jay can be found perched there.  That jay sits there calmly watching and waiting.  If the hawks make an appearance, the jay starts to yell.  Soon jays fly in from all over the place to join in the cacophony of warnings.  Then, thrashers, cardinals, blackbirds, mockingbirds and even the tiny wrens start with the harassment of the hawks.  Usually, the hawks give way to the other birds and they fly to the back of the Bayou.  The Critter Neighborhood Watch Clan rules!  While most folks seek out squirrel proof feeders, I am pondering a hawk proof area.  Not sure how that is going to work but it is necessary.

Free Rodent Control!

   Since the Little Bayou House has been officially void of cats for nigh on a year, rats have decided that the out buildings are free housing.  The greenhouse, shed and pump shed have literally been invaded by the varmints since Hurricane Zeta chased them out of their homes in the palmettoes.  Recently, the pump shed has become somewhat less infested by the critters since a large snake has taken up dwelling there.  The snake is welcome to stay.  It is a gray rat snake that is just doing its job.  Hopefully, next year dozens more of the snakes will be around but, in the meantime, that snake is going to get gigantic! The other two outbuildings still have the resident rats.  I have emptied the greenhouse of everything and set traps.  Three fat rats have met their doom so the traps will continue to be set.  But until some of the other hiding places are cleared, the rats will continue their reproducing.  Ugh!

  I had just about made up mind to go cat-hunting in hopes of finding another rat-catcher but in came another predator.  For the past few weeks, several large owls could be heard at night.  This gave me an idea!  All table scraps are now placed in an open place down by the wild persimmon trees.  Aha!  The owls are feasting upon rats as the rats feast upon scraps.  The free rodent control group is definitely doing its job as there is a lot less "evidence" of rats in the shed.  I am thinking Mother Nature knows when to send in the "big guys" to level the odds.  

  For the past few days, the owls have even started coming to the yard during the daytime hours.  This gives me hope that soon the rats will be gone for good!  I am tired of fighting them so let the predators have their fun.  While they are about it, the predators need to take a few squirrels along with the rats!

Shelter For A Friend

   Working in the yard and taking hikes about the place gives me the opportunity to get to know a lot of the critters that live around here.  When you are mingling with them, it does not take long before they become "family".  This story began almost four years ago.  I was out weeding when I heard a major ruckus down near the marsh.  I knew of several nesting birds in the area so rushed to see if a snake was raiding one of them.  It was not the resident rat snake but a hawk.  The hawk had seen a brown thrasher on her nest and decided to take it as prey.  Gallantly, the male thrasher tried to defend his ladylove with the help of the "neighborhood watch" gang of jays and cardinals.  The hawk sat holding the female thrasher in his talons while the others literally divebombed it.  Once I neared, the hawk tried to take flight but lost its grip on the flailing bird.  She tumbled down into the palmettoes, badly injured but alive.  I was devastated that my sweet friend had met this tragic ordeal and thought that the nest would now sit abandoned.   I was wrong.  The nest did not sit abandoned.  Later that evening, I checked and was surprised to find the male thrasher on the eggs.  He was doing his best to save his brood.  My heart was breaking thinking that my sweet, little mama had perished.  

  Two days went by with the same thing.  Papa Thrasher was on the nest.  On the third day, I was surprised to see a bloodied but alive Mama Thrasher on the nest.  Her head was down but I could tell she was alive.  That, my friends, is dedication!  That is the epitome of the perfect mom.  Papa Thrasher was bringing her food and was standing watch at all times.  Thankfully, the hawk never reappeared and Mama Thrasher eventually hatched two of the five eggs.  She remained lame from the incident, however.  She had trouble flying and was weakened from the ordeal.  As far as I know, she never nested again.  I would see her now and again as she rustled around in the underbrush trying to find food.  In fact, she became quite tame.

  A couple of days ago, I was saddened to see the decline in her health once again.  She is a fighter, though, and will not give up easily.  She lingered near me as I was cleaning the greenhouse.  She stayed under the fig trees where there were a lot of bugs.  This morning I found her IN the greenhouse!  It appears that she may just decide to take up residence there now that the rats and coons have been evicted.  Thankfully, no chemicals were deployed so she will not be harmed.  As I was working, she sat perched on a basket of gourds.  She seemed comfortable but she does look old and tired.  With the coming of winter, I have no problem with the thrasher living in the greenhouse.  She obviously found the vents that allow her to come and go as she pleases.  A dish of water and some seeds or fruit will be placed there for her convenience if she decides to stay.  Welcome home, Sweet Friend.  With all you have endured, this is the least I can do for you.  

The Marsh Is Not Safe!

  Camouflage is a good thing when you are a young critter...or, well, any critter...but particularly when you are young and defenseless.  It can mean the difference between life and death.  On the Bayou, there are many predators all wanting a meal.  Some are bold and brazen while others are cunning and quiet.  To my way of thinking, those quiet, sneaky ones are the worst.  They lie in wait and then pounce when their prey is least suspecting.   But, since most predators hunt by seeing movement, the camouflage can save many, many lives.

  My hike started before dawn and eventually brought me to the pier once the eastern sky started to brighten.  With the first step on the pier, a wave of suspense came over me.  Something, somewhere was watching me.  I could feel it.  In fact, it was enough to stop me in my tracks.  Not knowing what was in the marsh or in the trees overhead, the need to be cautious was ever present.  One thing that Pop taught me was to stop and search the area if I felt uneasy about my path.  If this was some predator that could harm me, I wanted to find it so I would know how to address the situation.

  

  It took only a few moments before I could give a sigh of relief.  To my left, there was an old board in the marsh and on that board was a sweet little mourning dove.  The bird was a juvenile and was not sure of itself.  The little tyke was semi-camouflaged but was still in danger.  It had chosen a very precarious spot to spend the night.  Predators prowl the marshes constantly so it is a wonder that the little bird had not already been spotted.  Perhaps it had sought protection from a hawk and thought the marsh was a good spot.  

  Just yesterday, I came across a rather large tuft of white feathers and instantly realized that one of my songbirds had fallen prey to either the large owl during the night or a hawk earlier in the day.  The little dove this morning could have witnessed the brutality that had occurred and took refuge in the marsh.  I could not help but give the little bird a bit of advice.  "Little One!  The marsh is not safe. Scoot yourself up to the jasmine vines or roses as you will be safe there!"  Maybe it will listen...maybe not.  Good luck, Little Dove.

One Is As Good As The Other!

  Yesterday, Son and I spent 31/2 hours pushing lawnmowers up and down the hillside.  Although spring has not arrived in many parts of the nation, we seemed to have moved quite quickly into late spring or early summer.  This is not to say that we won't find another freeze making its way to the Deep South but, as of right now, it seems mighty warm.  All of the fruit trees are in full bloom and of course the grass has decided to grow by leaps and bounds.  About midway through our cutting, he decided it was a good time for a water break.  As we sat on the ground under the orange trees, a large, dark bird flew overhead.  A young eagle landed just in the top of a pine just just beyond the canebrake.  Being one that is never without the camera within easy reach, I eased my way to get a photograph.  As I rounded the canebrake, Son called to me that the eagle was overhead behind me.  The bird had exited the tree and went the back way around to the Bay.  Well, that ended that!

  Then, another "blob" in a nearby pine caught my eye. A beautiful osprey had been perched in a tree next to where the eagle had landed.  The osprey was not too sure of her visitor and hunkered down among the branches.  Perhaps she was a bit nervous with her huge guest because as soon as the eagle flew out, the osprey took off in the opposite direction.  The eagles always give me a thrill but I am just as happy with my ospreys.  

Fat and Lazy!

  I have the fattest squirrels here on the Bayou!  Of course, some of these "fat" squirrels may be in the "family way" as it is about that time of year.  Other than that, the only contributing factor I can see is that I feed the birds.  Feeding the birds is fine and dandy but those rascally squirrels raid the feeders.  They chase the birds from the feeders then gorge themselves on the sunflower seeds.  This, too, is fine and dandy as I really do not mind feeding the squirrels.  They are cute, furry and downright fun to watch.  The only problem I can foresee is that by getting fat, the squirrels are also getting lazy and lazy critters run into trouble at times.

  Early this morning, the first hike of the day was in a dense fog.  This is our usual "winter weather"..fog, humid and hot.  That fog, however, makes for interesting hikes as it shrouds things from view and the dampness muffles the footsteps.  Critters have just the same problem as I do.  They cannot hear nor see a predator until sometimes it is too late.  A hawk, owl, fox or bobcat can have breakfast with ease on such mornings.  The fat, lazy squirrels are easy targets for all of the predators that roam the hillside in search of food.  This morning, I walked right up on the squirrels feasting in the bird feeders.  When they finally did decide to scamper, it was more of a leisurely stroll than a hasty retreat.  Then, one particularly fat squirrel decided to stop and rest just a few feet above my head on a small twig.  This choice of perching spots made it an easy target for a marauding hawk or owl.  

  Thankfully, the squirrel was safe this morning as no predators (other than me and, obviously, I mean them no harm) were out and about in the mistiness.  Perhaps I should stop stocking the feeders but, then, there is not a lot out there for the critters to eat this time of year.  Most of the squirrels have already gone through their stockpiles of stored goodies and the migrating birds need a bit of sustenance before they start their journeys.  Those fat and lazy critters need to keep a wary eye!  

Like a Sitting Duck

  Life on the Bayou can be perilous at times.  There are always predators on the prowl looking for an easy meal.  It is a wise move to take precaution and be alert.  I feel more at ease with the old dog on my hikes as one never knows what might be just around the bend.  Several times before PJ came to stay with us, I walked up on coyotes and once a bobcat.  I was fortunate that these potential predators were curious but not vicious.  They kept their distance as did I.  Plus, the alligators. cottonmouths and snapping turtles can give nasty bites given a chance so it just pays to be wary at all times.  

  Not all predators are easily evaded, though.  This afternoon, the tide was low..so low that the mudflats were fully exposed.  Tiny rivulets were all that connected one shallow tide pool to another.  More oft than not, these rivulets were formed by a snake that had slithered across the mudflats in search of a quick meal.  The shallow tide pools were mere puddles in the mud.  These were not fit for any living critter but were, indeed, housing thousands of minnows.  The small bull minnows had become trapped by the falling tide and did not make it to deeper water.  They were stranded.  

  The stranded minnows were like sitting ducks.  Any predator seeking that noontime meal had easy pickings.  While I was watching the minnows frantically trying to skim across the mud to the next puddle, a small garter snake came out of the marsh and wiggled its way to the first puddle.  It was no hard task for the garter snake to catch a minnow....then another...and another. Watching the garter snake feast made me think of how easy it would be for a heron or egret to eat its fill from the very same puddles.  Raccoons, rice rats, otters, turtles, birds snakes and crabs make use of the low tide to fill their bellies.  It is a matter of survival of the fittest.  Had the minnows not lingered in the shallows, they would have been able to reach deeper waters and safety.  Now they were sitting ducks that had nowhere to go.  I started to attempt a "Catch and Release" program but, then, thought better.  Yes, it was a sure death situation (by their own doing) for the bull minnows but the other critters were able to survive merely on this mistake.  The little garter snake soon had its fill and slithered into the marsh to rest....far away from predators!

All's Well That Ends Well

  The little family of wrens that were in the greenhouse have all vacated the place..at least during the daytime hours.  Their nest in the hanging basket of Swedish Ivy stands empty.  In the early evening hours, Mama and Papa Wren gather their five little ones to spend the night in their cozy nest.  Soon, that too, will cease.  Mama Wren will choose a new spot in the greenhouse to have another brood.  In the meantime, however, the tiny tots are learning the ropes of being foragers.  Mama and Papa are teaching their brood the finer points of bug searching.  

  This morning at daybreak, I headed to the greenhouse to fetch some gardening supplies.  As soon as I opened the door, the entire place was aflutter with the fledglings.  The little ones were out of the nest and trying their new found ability to fly.  I am glad that they have the safety of the greenhouse to try their wings for the first time.  This gives them a predator free spot to learn to the new skill.  Once I realized that I had walked in on a bunch of tots exploring the plants, I immediately backed out sans my supplies.  Those would have to wait a bit.  It was not long before the first little one found its way outside.  I watched for a moment as Mama and Papa doted on the little squirt.  They made such a big ado about its ability to fly a good four feet!  Satisfied that the parents knew what they were doing, I went back to weeding the garden.  I could hear one after another of the little ones making the great escape from the greenhouse.  Mama and Papa were elated...until about five minutes after the last little one flew the coop.  Then, a terrible screeching came from the little family.  Oh, my!!!  I have never run so fast for a bird!

  Not even paying attention to where I was stepping, I raced to the aid of the little birds.  By the time I reached the back of the greenhouse, two cardinals, a mockingbird and two thrashers joined in the commotion. Then, with the odds against them, two fat squirrels raced up the oak tree and started barking.  Had one of them tried to snack on a baby bird?  Stranger things have happened.  Squirrels have raided birds' nests before but usually for eggs and not baby birds.  I found no other predators in the area, though.  Mama and Papa were exceedingly alarmed and no babies could be found.  My goodness!  Five minutes out of the confines of the greenhouse and something terrible already happened?  Then a small peep.  One little one came out from under some leaves.  Yay!  Then another and another and another until all five babies were found!  Whatever attacked the little ones did not succeed!  My little family was safe! 

  All day, the family searched for bugs, practiced their flying skills and explored the hillside.  Late this evening, I noticed the parents herding their crew back into the greenhouse which makes me happy as we are expecting a night of stormy weather to hit the Bayou.  The little ones will be snug back in their hanging basket home for another night.

One Smart Mama!

  Back behind the house near the canebrake, we have a dozen or so citrus trees.  In this small grove, there are two trees that were (at one time) lime trees.  One winter the icy weather froze the two lime trees and they died back to the ground.  I wanted to remove the dead trees but Son insisted that we "give them time".  The man has the patience of a saint and believes in giving everything time to thrive.  I begrudgingly agreed to leave the trees for three months but then, if they showed no signs of life, they were to be removed.  He was right.  The trees both came out from the roots and flourished but, instead of limes, they produced a weird fruit that seemed to be a cross between a lime and a lemon.  I had no problem with that as I like both.  The trees are now approximately ten feet in height and doing well but....they now have thorns...huge thorns...which brings me to the whole point of this story.

  Last week, while out trimming around the trees, I noticed that a pair of cardinals were busy nest-building in the lemon/lime tree.  The birds did not seem to mind me clearing the area so I continued my work and they snatched bits and pieces of twigs from my trash.   Now, Mama Cardinal is setting on her eggs in the beautifully made nest. Mama Cardinal is smart.  She usually nests in the Boysenberry vines but since they are sparse this year, she chose the thorny branches of this tree.  She is safe from most predators because of her choice of nesting sites.  Not many predatory mammals are going to risk being torn to shreds by the many long thorns.  With the thatching of thorns above her, it would be quite unusual for a hawk or crow to attempt raiding the nest.  The only predator that Mama Cardinal has to fear would be a snake.  Just like Mama, a snake could find its way between the thorns and make a raid on the eggs.  Papa Cardinal stays nearby and is always ready to defend his ladylove so, hopefully, this smart mama will be able to raise her little ones safely. 

 

For some, its a hard life

  It is always a happy morning for us when the bottlenose dolphins are seen playing in the Bay.  At times, they can be seen tossing fish as high as twenty feet in the air.  This is to stun the fish so it can be eaten with leisure.  Other times, the dolphins will team up to corral school fish into a tight circle.  The dolphins then can attack and catch more fish.  Mullet, ladyfish, trout even catfish are considered breakfast for a hungry dolphin.  These huge critters are not picky eaters and will devour just about any fish that gets in its way.  Mark and I enjoy watching the bottlenose dolphins as they work and play near the pier.  

  At the same time that the dolphins are busying themselves, it is easy to notice the large schools of fish that are their targets. Mullet and ladyfish, especially, are visible with their jumping and striking the water's surface. The dolphins follow the large schools of fish as they come into the brackish water to spawn.  Once they have the schools in the Bay area, corralling them in even tighter circles is easy due to the shallow water. There is not much chance of escape.

  The other morning, we wasted a good bit of time trying to catch our lunch.  We wound up catching a lot of fish but none that were worth eating.  One of the fish that took my line was a fine ladyfish.  That fish bounced around the water like a maniac before I finally managed to get it on the pier.  Once it was there, we realized that the poor thing had already had a rough go of things.  Something had already taken a nice swipe at the fish's side.  Perhaps one of the dolphins had slapped the ladyfish out of the water but never devoured it.  (This habit is actually called "fish-whacking".  Yep, that is the technical term for it.)  A nice sized scar spanned the girth of the ladyfish.  Its fin had been damaged and it did, indeed, look a little ragged.  It did not appear to have been bitten only smacked.  Poor ladyfish!  It has already been attacked, whacked and then hooked.  Life cannot be easy for smaller fish when the dolphins are hungry!

Predator Meets Predator

  For some reason, the critters here on the Bayou are having a difficult spring.  While the weather is incredibly "spring-like" in accordance to others' standards, it is a tad cooler than normal here.  I don't think this should be a critical factor in the lives of critters since it is not cold...just plumb nice!  As I said before, the songbirds are meeting with many predators and are being obliterated at a rapid pace.  So many nests are utterly destroyed by the predators.  
  
  But the birds are not the only ones facing trouble.  Today while out meandering the gardens, I noticed that the frogs are being their usual predatory selves as well.  While it is fine and dandy that they munch a lot of the bugs, I do wish they would leave the dragonflies in peace. Obviously, as soon as a nymph climbs up on the Elephant Ear Plants to morph into an adult dragonfly, one of the frogs attacks!  Before the dragonfly's wings dry enough to enable it to fly, the frog is munching down breakfast.  The surface of the pond's water is covered with the lacy wings minus the bodies. Sorry, frogs!  I need these dragonflies! Mosquitoes are literally eating me alive out here!

  In view of all of the recent threats of dire diseases carried by mosquitoes, the dragonflies are indeed a necessity.  Without these speedy divebombers, the biting insects will soon take over the place. Living on the Bayou is a bit different than living where the larvae can be controlled.  While it is all good to empty pools, buckets and old tires containing standing water, one just cannot empty a bayou.  The dragonflies have always kept things in balance.  Frogs do their part but the dragonflies are able to reach many more mosquitoes.  So...do the frogs go?  Something has to change...ponder, ponder.