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.

Tranquility Among The Flowers

   There is one spot in the Small Gardens that makes me smile with every passing.  While it is pretty with the zinnias, day lilies, ruby lilies and other flowers, my joy comes simply by something else that lurks under the blooms.  The old raccoon that comes to visit each afternoon, takes naps under the zinnias, at times.  She is old, tired and obviously has problems seeing.  Her visits are daily as she comes to eat the spilled birdseed.  Thinking perhaps that is all the sweet thing has to eat, I have taken to bringing her "treats" when I see her.  Cereal is her favorite but fruit runs a second best.  The sweet little thing has been attacked by the younger, more robust coons so now I sit with her until she gets her belly full.  Once she ambles back to the zinnia bed, I feel she is at least somewhat safe.

  My encounters with the old coon have become a highlight of each day.  She comes, we "visit" and then she goes on her merry way.  I refuse to make a pet out of her simply because it is important for her to stay wild and free.  My help comes only through the feeding but, if she wants to hide in the flower gardens, I am surely not going to refuse her the luxury.  Maybe she is just too tired to go back to the marshes or woods.  Maybe she is one that was pushed from her home just west of us where the tractors clear cut almost every tree.   Maybe she just finds tranquility here like I do.

  Sometimes, it is not the appearance of things that makes them beautiful.  Sometimes, it is the help rendered.  The Small Gardens are lovely simply because they have become a haven of sorts.  Be kind to the critters.  Every once in a while, they need a helping hand.

The Oyster Tree

   Mark shucks oysters far down the hill near the marsh edge.  This is by my request because those things stink pretty bad after a few days.  I was not about to have the stench filtering into the Little Bayou House.  He is good with it as long as I ply him with mugs of hot coffee during his cold and often rainy job.  Since he gets a few sacks of oysters every couple of month, the shells have plenty of time to dry before he adds to the pile.  For a few days, however, that part of the property smells awful!  Some critters do not seem to think the stench is bad but I do.

  On a recent hike, I noticed something odd hanging in a cluster of vines in one of the oak trees.  Imagine my surprise when I found that the oddity was actually a couple of oyster shells about twenty feet off the ground!  The tree is not far from the shell pile but, still, something was amiss.  What in the world???  

  As near as I can figure, a raccoon must have thought the shells contained tasty tidbits so it toted them up the tree.  Once it had licked them clean, the coon dropped the shells and they became ensnared.  What a tale I could conjure to tell unsuspecting folks!  "Yes, this is our oyster tree.  We try to pick most of the oysters when they ripen but this year, Hurricane Zeta knocked them all to the ground.  You can see all the bad shells right there on that pile and there are the only two left in the tree."  Oyster tree!  Yep, sounds like it might make a good tall tale!

Now, They've Done It!

  Well, I normally claim that animals are far smarter than humans.  Critters have a natural survival instinct that does not leave them time to meddle in other's affairs.  They do their thing and let others do theirs.  That is the way things should be but humans always have to be nosy....and bossy....and greedy.  Critters have got it down pat...at least, some do.

  Along about mid-morning, I thought it wise to bring Son a cooling drink as he had been working on the pier again.  It is hot work and I can no longer help him.  He was appreciative and as I was waiting to fetch his glass back up the hillside, I noticed something amiss.  Thousands of hickory nuts were strewn across the lower section of the yard.  Odd! Hickory nuts should not be falling for a few months yet and we had no storms to knock them from the trees.  This was a mystery that required investigating.  I assured Son that I would not venture too far and set off on my mystery-solving party.

  As near as I can tell, the nuts were knocked down by hungry critters whether raccoons or squirrels (or both)!  It appeared that some of the nuts had the green outer shell gnawed a bit before being discarded. Obviously, the green nuts were not as tasty as the critters had thought but they were determined to find a "good" one so they kept trying and discarding.  Now, they have done it!  With the nuts knocked to the ground, they will not be fully matured.  The meat inside will wither and dry.  The critters' winter supply is going to be short.   In fact, even the nuts on the ground will be gone by then.  Tomorrow, I shall gather them and store these fine things for winter.  They will not be used as food but as fuel for the old cast iron stove.  Once hot, the hickory nuts last a long time and put out good heat.  Sorry, critters...your loss is my gain!

The Busy Morning

  It was rather chilly out on the pier this morning.  With the temperature in the upper thirties, I had to watch my step for fear of slipping on the frost-covered pier planks.  I was fully not expecting others to be out on the water but, to my surprise, the place was quite active.  The north wind had pushed the tide far out exposing the mudflats for some distance.  Those mudflats and the shallows were teeming with activity as all sorts of critters were hunting breakfast.

  A group of mottled ducks were the first that I noticed.  It seemed that they kept their heads under the water more than above.  They were shuffling the bottom to muddy the waters.  This allowed them to confuse the small mullet and bull minnows swimming there.   Along with the mottled ducks was a pair of hooded mergansers.  These, too, were busy feasting on the little fish.  I was surprised to see the two types of ducks mingling.  The hoodies are a much smaller type of duck than the mottleds but they had no problem working together to find their morning meal.  I watched  the ducks for a few moments before I noticed yet another critter joining the feeding frenzy.  A snowy egret flew in to the open diner.  This gorgeous bird stepped gingerly in the shallows and dipped its beak often.  It always came up with a tasty morsel!  Imagine my surprise when a tri-colored heron joined this motley crew!  This bird, too, caught its breakfast with ease.  The sight fully amazed me.  I was so impressed that each of these birds seemed oblivious to the fact that it was dining alongside of those different than itself.  The sole intent was to fill the belly on this cold morning.  But...I was being chilled to the bone and decided to head back to the warmth of the wood stove.  I rose from the bench, looked up and was floored!  Yet another critter wandered to the area to dine.  A lone raccoon waddled out of the marsh and started scavenging the mudflats for trapped minnows.  After a few moments, the coon waded out to share in the bounty the others were enjoying.  All in all, six mottled ducks, two hooded mergansers, one snowy egret, one tri-colored heron and a lone raccoon feasted upon the minnows that had been flushed out of the marshes by the low tide.  It was definitely a busy, busy morning on the Bayou!

Once Again

  When one has a troubled mind, it is best to find the one place in this old world that makes you feel good.  For me, that place is the pier.  There, I can look out over the water and forget the worries of the world.  There is nothing so great that a bit of "Bayou Magic" cannot cure.   Lately, it seems as if the days were starting to clutter the brain with a bunch of riffraff "nothingisms".  I needed respite.  The water beckoned and I answered.  

  While I was watching the pelicans dive in the inches-deep water, a slight movement on the shoreline caught my eye.  A raccoon piddled in the shallows hoping to find breakfast.  At first, I assumed that this was a youngster just out from under his mom's care because, as raccoons go, this was a small one.  As I stared at the critter, it occurred to me that it was moving awfully slow.  Something was amiss.  As the coon neared, it became apparent that this was no teenager...this coon was an elder.  In fact, the critter was quite old and was having problems finding breakfast.  

 Slowly, slowly, the coon neared the pier.  I was in hopes that it would make the turn parallel to the pier and go up on the mudflats.  Earlier, I had noticed that a dozen or so fat killifish were trapped in a small pool of water.  The coon could have feasted there.  Instead, the old guy kept going along the shoreline until he was far out of sight.  I sure hope he found something to fill his belly as it is to be a rather cold night and there is nothing worse than being cold and hungry.  

  Watching the raccoon struggle just to find its breakfast made me realize that my troubles were minuscule.  I could handle the day.  The Bayou had once again worked its magic on me.  Life is good.

Critter Encounter

  Have you ever been out at the break of dawn and suddenly get that feeling that someone or something is watching you?  The hair starts to tingle on the back of your neck and you start peering into the shadows to see if something is lurking nearby.  It is a strange feeling.  Normally, it would not bother me much being way down here on the Bayou but, with the old dog ailing, we do not need a critter attack.  Coyotes and bobcats are roaming the hillside and if they ever deemed that we were too near, it would not be a pretty sight.  I am sure that, even though he is feeble, Mr. PJ would try to defend me and, in a sense, give his life for me.  He is just that good of a friend....canine or not.

  On this morning's hike, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.  The hair started standing on end and that gut started knotting.  Something, somewhere was keeping a steady eye on the old dog and me.  Mr. PJ did not get the feeling and kept his slow amble down the path.  Silently...slowly...I reached out and put my hand on his back.  He stopped immediately and stared at me.  This gave me the opportunity to scan the area.  Somewhere among the underbrush, a shadowy figure lurked. 

  It did not take long before I found our "menacing monster".  A raccoon was keeping a wary eye on this pair that was invading "his" territory.  I breathed a sigh of relief but kept my hand on Mr. PJ's back.  "Stay, boy, stay!"  I said in a hushed voice.  While I was somewhat more at ease with this being a coon, they can be vicious in their own right when cornered and this was one HUGE coon!  It was nigh on as big as the old dog. There was no need to push the critter into a fight mode.  

  We stood motionless for a bit as the coon stared at us.  Then, he silently turned and waddled down the path in the opposite direction.  Mr. PJ and I turned and retraced our steps.  Finding one critter was enough for this morning.  If Mr. PJ had been younger and stronger, we would have ventured further down toward the creek bed but not today...not today.

The Garden Thief

  Along about noontime, I decided to make another batch of peach jam.  Since I had already picked all of the peaches due to marauding coons, the task was half done.  It was a just a matter of "jamming".  The fruit was all prepared, cooked and jarred within a short time.  There was nothing to do but clean up my mess.  While doing that, I heard a strange sound on the back porch. Hmmm...that was unusual as no one was out there.  I opened the door to come face to face with the Garden Thief!  

  A young raccoon was searching the area for something for lunch.  I eased my way out the backdoor and onto the small porch all the while still holding a pot and dish towel.  The coon slowly made its way down the steps and then turned to look at me.  It seemed to expect me to give it a handout!!  As if I needed to do that after it has raided the garden numerous times!!  Nope, Little One!  You are not getting a handout today!  The little coon edged its way under the shed and I thought all was ended for the day.  

  About five minutes after disappearing under the south side of the shed, a small head popped out of the north side!  The little rascal was exiting there and making its way back to the porch!  Ok, coon!  That is enough!  Get yourself out of here before I hurl this pot at you!  The coon did not stop.  Rather, it kept coming toward me and, once again, appeared to be begging for food.  

  It suddenly dawned on me that this little coon must be the same one that my brother feeds at the end of the lane.  Since he gives it daily handouts, the coon has lost all fear of humans and thinks that every one should do the same. Not me!  I do not mind feeding the critters during bleak times but the garden is in full swing and they are surely getting their bellies full each night.  So...Little Coon...go back down the lane.  You cannot have my plums, peaches or tomatoes!

Murder on the Back Steps!

  Early this morning, Ms. Nycto begged to be let out the back door.  The cat, otherwise known as the Bayou Princess, demanded in loud meows to have her whims met.  Not wanting to wake up the entire neighborhood at 5am, I heeded her calls and unlocked the door.  No sooner had she slipped out the screen door, than she begged to be let back inside.  Something was amiss out on the back porch and she was having no part of it!  I opened the screen door and let the finicky feline back inside.  The Princess then scampered up the stairs and retired to the large queen-sized bed that she has claimed as her own.  Well, now!!! I pondered if some coyote was prowling in the darkness.  I headed back into the kitchen to get a mug of hot coffee then settled in by the old wood burning stove.

  Along about daybreak, I ventured out that back door just to see if there was any evidence of what scared the cat.  Yup.  Plenty of evidence!  It appeared that a brutal murder had taken place on my doorstep overnight!  The entire steps was covered in blood-red goo!  Not to mention there were incriminating "hand prints" in the "blood"!  My goodness!  No wonder the poor Bayou Princess was scared out of her wits!  

  Now came the time for me to clean up this mess as it was mostly by my own oversight that it occurred.  The night before, I found a nice bowl of cherry sauce in the fridge,  This stuff had somehow gotten shoved far behind the half bottles of pickles, the extra cartons of cream cheese and the chilling pie dough for today's dessert.  The cherry sauce was beyond my use but instead of tossing it in the garbage, it was stuck on the back porch to be toted to the compost in this morning.  I was not about to traipse out in the cold to empty that dish!  Well, by the looks of it, a raccoon decided that the cherry sauce was far too tasty to be wasted. The raccoon helped itself to the dish.  By the looks of things, the cherry sauce may have been even a bit fermented and the coon may have gotten a bit tipsy.  The bowl, itself, was flung under the nearby pear tree and cherry sauce was smeared on every step!  Silly, drunk raccoon!  He murdered that stuff!

 

One Last Bite

  My hiking got a bit longer today as the old dog felt somewhat better, the day was gorgeous and I had cabin fever.  I needed to get away from Christmas decorations for at least a little while!  While we slowly meandered the hillside, Mr. PJ sniffed everything as if it was all new after his four day absence.  I surveyed everything as if it was all new.  Then, down by the marsh edge, I spied a treasure!  One last wild persimmon dangled precariously on a broken branch.  Obviously, a raccoon had coveted that very same persimmon but the tiny limb did not hold its weight.  Now, the quarter-sized fruit was within my reach!  It was mine!  I happily gobbled the luscious orange blob!  It is going to be a long wait before I taste that again.  October 2019 is a long way off.

  While the wild persimmons are not for everyone, I love them.  The peels are a bit astringent even after a frost chills them and each fruit has seven or eight large, penny-sized seeds.  It is the sweet, juicy pulp that makes the fruit worth eating.  When I can pick enough of the fruit, they do make a delightful jam, as well, however, I usually eat every one I pick!  There will be no jam this year.  Oops!

  Wild persimmons, though small, are more nutritious than their cultivated counterparts.  For example, just one of these small fruits can give you up to 27% of your daily requirement of vitamin C.  The fruit can be used in many ways.  Jams, breads, puddings and cookies are just a few of the ways I use them.  Plus, the leaves are dried and used to make a great cup of tea!  Wild persimmons...a favorite here on the Bayou...the coons and I love them!

 

Working the flats

  It is that time of year when the north wind starts to push the tides out a bit further and further.  The pier will soon not have enough water to cover the crab traps and they will have to be stored until spring.  While this low, low tide is not the ideal time for fishing from the pier for us, it is perfect for the critters that scavenge the mudflats left open.  After being covered for so long, the mud houses many small crabs, shrimp and other shellfish.  When the tide goes out and exposes the mud to open air, shore critters  make haste to scavenge for breakfast.

  Early this morning, I eased my way to the pier.  It was the perfect morning to be out since all was quiet.  After I reached the point where the marsh meets the water, I noticed that the tide was out and the all important mudflats were exposed.  Thinking this might be a good critter-watching time, I settled in for a spell.  It did not take long before my first guest arrived.  A half-grown raccoon wobbled his way out of the marsh and immediately started "fishing",  Those little front paws swished the water until it was muddied which confused the tiny shrimp that had collected in the two inches of water.  Overnight, the tiny shrimp moved to the safety of the shallows but now, a predator had found them!  The little coon was smart enough to know that confusing the shrimp would allow him to catch more.  After getting a dozen or so of the tiny morsels, the raccoon moved on to bigger and better things,  He started digging for the small crabs that were buried in the mud.  After just a couple of tries, I could here the crunching of a shell.  The coon had a crab!  Breakfast was served to a hungry raccoon!

  The mudflats see a lot of action during the winter months.  Besides the raccoons, many shorebirds, fox, otters and even the bobcats will visit and dine upon what they find.  They all know that the flats provide easy pickings if they do not mind getting a bit muddy.  The pier provides me with a front row seat for this never-ending show!

I Really NEED a Bigger House!

  With all this craze of downsizing to a thing called a "Tiny House", many folks are ditching their worldly goods and going with the bare essentials.  That is all fine and dandy.  For that matter, my sister and brother-in-law did just that.  They gave away almost every "luxury" item or nonessential item to live with the basics.  Their new house is absolutely gorgeous!  I could fully go that route if it was just up to me but it is not.  There are others that live in the Little Bayou House and I doubt that neither Hubby nor Son would appreciate being in much more cramped quarters.  We all need our space...even from each other occasionally and, as you can gather from the name "Little Bayou House", our home is not huge.  Downsizing would be pushing it.  That said, I do NOT need a bigger home.  Someone else does.

  This morning, I worked cleaning some of the "winter" from the yard.  Things accumulated over the past few months from, not only our construction work but just life in general.  As I hauled limbs and boards to the burn pile, I noticed something strange was happening in the top of the dead pine that sits near the marsh.  This tree was struck by lightning years ago and now stands like a stoic guard overseeing the entirety of the Bayou.  This is where the osprey sits as she waits for a tidbit from her suitor.  This is where the blackbirds roost to guard their wives as they sit on nests.  This is where the flying squirrels romp in and out the holes left by woodpeckers.   Although the tree is dead, it is full of life.  Today, however, a new resident was in the topmost hole.  What drew my attention to the tree was a blob of brown fur that was poking out of the top of the tree.  At first, I was not sure if it was even a critter or some weird type of hairy mold growing on the tree.  As I toted limbs, I kept watch on the hole and, suddenly, a bit of movement!  Aha!  A critter had moved into the tiny house!

  A raccoon had decided that the abandoned woodpecker hole was large enough for a nap.  The coon was wrong.  It was far from being enough room for a nap.  Part of its coon's back stuck out of the hole and its head and right ear stuck out a hole on the other side of the tree.  The coon literally overfilled its tiny house!  Sleeping the day away in this cramped position did not seem to be the brightest idea but, somehow, the raccoon seemed happy.  Come tonight, the coon will be on the prowl and will most likely seek a different nook to take its daytime snooze at sunrise.  Sometimes, you've just got to "upsize" instead of trying to downsize.  Tiny houses are not for everyone.  It is hard to fit a raccoon in a flying squirrel's nest no matter how hard you try.

The Tiny Vistor

  For the past few evenings, I have been shelling pecans.  It is times like these, that having a good friend makes all the difference in the world.  Shelling 50 pounds of pecans by myself is not fun.  Throw a friend into the lot and the chore becomes much more pleasant.  Darlene and I shell pecans and do a lot of laughing and storytelling.  It is great fun and the task gets finished in good time. The hulls of the pecans are tossed out the door so that the critters around the Bayou can feast upon any small pieces that we miss.  I figured that it is far better to let them eat than to waste the nuts.  Squirrels and birds have been having a grand time picking through the mounds of shells.

  This afternoon in the drizzling rain, a tiny raccoon was scavenging through the hulls to find its dinner.  The little rascal was so intent on eating that it did not even look up when I went out the door.  I eased my way to within a few feet of the tiny tot before he even realized that I was there.  Once he saw me, he tried to climb the huge oak tree just beyond the shell pile.  The poor little guy wobbled a bit and almost fell.  Oh, geez!  If a predator came along there would be no escape for the little coon.  I could have easily grabbed the little one from the tree trunk.  Ok, so the heartstrings were tugged and I knew I, at least, needed to help him a bit.  A nice handful of whole (cracked) pecans were placed at the base of the tree for the little coon.  At least, he would eat good tonight!  

  I am hoping that after a few healthy meals, the little coon will be strong enough to climb and forage for itself.  Being so tiny and weak makes one vulnerable as it is but with the coming winter cold, the tiny coon will not stand a chance.  As much as I get aggravated at the coons for eating from our fruit trees, I hate to see any living thing go hungry.  I might have to see what else I can find to fortify his diet for a few days if he hangs around.  Such a cutie!

The Welcome Visitor

  One thing about living on the Bayou, you never know who might drop in for a visit.  Sometimes, I go weeks without seeing a human visitor but I can always depend on my critter friends to pay a call.  I am good with that.  Critter friends leave behind all of the whining and gossiping to just be friends.  There is no drama involved in our conversations and, though their visits are often fleeting, I feel honored that they came at all.  I guess it all goes back to that thing about people who overstay their welcome.  Critters never do.  Their visits are short and to the point and then they take their leave.  No bad at all.

   Down near the east side of the property right on the shore of the Bayou, there sits an old oak tree.  The branches drape down into the water and create a small "room" that is shut off from most of the world. This area is maybe ten feet across and twelve wide.  During high tide, the floor of this "room" is filled with water but as the tide drops, a small puddle remains. In reality, it is a pretty neat little place.  Blocked from view on all sides except an opening here and there, the old oak tree provides shelter to critters that come to dine on minnows and crabs in the pool.  It was here that I was down on my knees trying to film the rivalry of the male fiddler crabs. Hundreds of the little crabs had invaded the area and were frantically waving their large claws as a warning to each other.  Not much actual fighting ensues but it is pretty interesting to watch. You get a couple of hundred crabs together and let them wave their claws and it starts to resemble some weird dance.  

  While I was kneeling just a few feet from the water's edge, I had a perfect view of the inner portion of the "room".  There was not much happening until suddenly, I had a visitor.  A small raccoon was searching for supper and obviously knew right where to come.  The little fellow paid no attention to my presence and started scurrying about trying to catch trapped minnows.  After several photographs, the critter finally noticed me.  He kept feeding but eased closer to the far side of the branches.  From this point, the little raccoon could keep an eye on me all the while catching bull minnows.  

  Neither of us made the effort to vacate the area so our visit lasted a good twenty minutes.  I sure enjoyed his company!  I love my critter friends!

The "New Pet"

  The new "pet" has made itself right at home.  Back during the early fall, three tiny raccoons were abandoned by their mom in the old oak tree. This tree overhangs the house so all night long, I could hear acorns pelting the rooftop.  Mama Coon knew right where to park those little ones to make sure they had plenty to eat in her absence.  During the daytime hours, the babies would often climb down the tree and wander about the yard.  I noticed that they would always clean up any food that Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess Cat, had left in her bowl. Well, as babies have a habit of doing, the trio grew and became the same size as the cat whose bowl they were raiding.  Then, two were missing.  A traumatic ending befell at least one of the babies as the bobcat caught it. Hopefully, the end was quick and painless.  Probably not, however.  I never knew what happened to baby number two.  It just never returned to the old oak tree.  Baby number three had decided that it is much safer staying close to the Little Bayou House and has befriended its benefactor, Ms. Nycto.

  For the past few weeks, each time I go to feed the cat, the juvenile raccoon is there waiting for its handout as well.  The first night, the little rascal actually stole the cat's food...bowl and all!  Now, the coon sits patiently as I feed the cat and then ask it if it wants something to eat. Then, and only then, will the raccoon take its food.  If the little bandit gets frightened, it will scamper off the porch and down the steps but does not go far.  I can call to it and back up on the porch it comes. 

  I am not sure this is a good idea, though.  Just like babies growing into juvenile raccoons, those juveniles mature to become adults.  I do not need a full grown raccoon as a pet!  Actually, I do not need this little one as a "pet"!  It needs to wander itself back into the woods, find a mate and start a family far down in the creek bed.  For the time being, though, I guess it can at least grab a meal or two. 

  I do find it strange that Ms. Nycto has no qualms about sharing her meals with the raccoon when she has problems being in the same yard with the old cat, Ms. Put, aka the Bayou Queen.  Those two have a ritual of howling at each other whenever they are within a hundred feet of one another.  I guess the little coon is not a threat to Ms. Nycto's cathood!

Breakfast On The Mudflats!

  The coming of cooler weather means the north wind will be pushing the tide far out from the shoreline.  Sometimes there is a nigh on fifty foot wide strip of mud between the marsh and the water's edge. This makes for difficult fishing from the pier but also makes for some fun "critter-watching".  Critters of all sorts scavenge the mudflats for mollusks, trapped fish and shrimp and exposed crabs.  The predators feast upon seafood while the tides are low and I get the perfect vantage point for viewing all of this dining.

  Yesterday morning, a lone raccoon wandered along the marsh edge hunting for breakfast.  It would scurry after fiddler crabs or nab a stranded minnow as it made its way toward the pier.  Had I not moved to get a clear photograph, the raccoon would have continued on until out of sight.  Instead, the critter darted into the marsh and made its way towards the shore.   I followed to see just where my friend was heading but instead of finding the coon, I came across a marsh rabbit munching on the cord grass roots.  The bunny went scampering out of sight just as the raccoon had. 

  The marsh provides plenty of hiding spots for critters.  Although the raccoon needn't worry, the rabbit needs to not only watch for land based predators but also those from above.  It would only take the red-tailed hawk a quick minute to dart down and nab the bunny.  Life is all about survival with these critters and they are astute enough to take advantage of any and all methods to get through another day.

The Masked Bandit Strikes Again!

  Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess Cat, had come inside to avoid the threat of rain.  She snuggled up against my feet as I sorted through a stack of junk mail.  I smiled because her presence always makes me feel warm and comfy.  It was not long after she started snoozing that I heard a strange noise outside the east window.  Hmmm, with both cats inside, this must be some wild critter.  I eased my feet out from beneath the slumbering cat and slipped to the window.  Yep, there was a critter out there alright.  A raccoon had climbed the garden fence and was doing a bit of thieving!

  The rascal was out there in broad daylight trying to steal a hose!  Yep, I had forgotten to pick up a small tubing that went to a garden fountain and that critter was stealing it!  Whatever could a raccoon want with a short piece of hose?  I decided to get "proof" in the way of a photograph.  I needed evidence of the burglar's actions!  Although photographing the critter through the window resulted in a blurry picture, it is quite evident that the masked bandit was living up to his name.  

  After the picture-taking session, I decided to retrieve my hose and let the raccoon be on his merry way.  I am still not sure why the coon wished to take possession of the small water hose but I do believe that I need it more than he does.  Sorry, Little Thief!  You go somewhere else and swipe things!  Hmmmm?  I wonder if that is what is happening to other things that I cannot seem to find?  Perhaps this little guy is a kleptomaniac!  Perhaps he is stealing lots of things and I am not to blame for misplacing them!  Perhaps I better keep and eye on this fellow!

A Nice Cool Spell

  Finally, we have a taste of winter.  Not winter as compared to our neighbors to the north but at least winter on the Bayou.  I was cold all day...I loved it. With both woodstoves chugging along, the wood bins needed to be refilled often.  On one trek out to the woodpile, I noticed that it was actually sleeting.  The cold pellets of ice stung when they hit my face and made the fire wood almost too cold to handle.  I made quick work of the chore and got myself back inside!  This evening, I did make a quick hike down to the pier to check the boat but, other than that, the day was spent inside. 

  While I was on the pier, I noticed that the north wind had blown the water far out from the marsh edge.  Once again, I was hesitant to stay out in this wet, cold weather so I was quick about my business.  I did find one other friend out and about.  The north wind was actually helping one of the Bayou critters.  A small raccoon was digging for clams, tiny crabs and minnows that might be in the mud between the marsh and water's edge.  The low tide had actually given the little coon larger hunting grounds.  In the few minutes that I watched, the critter actually managed to find several tidbits to crunch.  I am thinking that these were small crabs since I could actually hear his crunching!  The fact that the young coon was finding a meal on this dreary day made me happy.  At least this little guy would have a full belly this evening!

  Tonight, I have my leg/foot warmer working full time. The cat,  Ms. Nycto, has chosen my ankles as her bed for the evening and the warmth she provides with her long fur sure feels good!  Just another reason I am glad I rescued her.  

Let Me In!!!

  I get more critter visitors than I do human.  Here on the Bayou, critters abound but it is a rare occasion when a person decides to call.  I do not mind at all as most of the time, I prefer the critters over humans.  They never complain, never nag and sure do not talk about you behind your back!  Critters seem to have a bit more class!  (Just a little joke there...folks.  Oh, on second thought...maybe not.  I stand by my original statement!)  Anyway, today I had both.  My sweet sister-in-law came to have lunch with me.  We dined upon seafood and salad and had a grand time.  She departed shortly afterwards leaving me to my clue hunt work.  The greenhouse is currently being transformed so out I went.  Along about an hour later, I heard a rattling at the backdoor.  Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess, (cat) wanted inside.  This was a bit odd as she normally does not like being in the greenhouse.  It is too noisy for her liking since squirrels keep pounding the roof with acorns.  Still there she was trying to get inside.  There was nothing for me to do other than to bide by her wishes.

  When I opened the door, I saw that another critter was visiting as well. Just off of the deck, a raccoon was busy eating the acorns that the squirrels were dropping.  The little rascal was feasting on the squirrels' leftovers.  Smart coon!  No climbing was required for it to get a bellyful!  

  The young raccoon looked up at me but was not deterred from its dining.  Ms. Nycto scooted through the open door and then eyed the coon from the door's window. She was safe from the monster!  Ahhh, Bayou Princess!  I knew that you prefer my company over the wild critters of the Bayou!

Early Evening Raid

  Way down near the marsh edge sits a small persimmon tree.  This is not one of the cultivated trees that makes the nice, plump fruit but rather a wild one that has tiny, marble-sized fruit.  This is fine by me as I prefer the tiny pleasantly-sweet persimmons over the large, mushy, almost sickening-sweet things.  In fact, I like these things so much that I encouraged Son to leave the many seedlings that have sprouted where seeds have dropped.  I know we will have to thin the little saplings at some point but for now they grow.  I do so enjoy the first ripe persimmon and cannot wait until a night's frost changes the tart fruit into sugary, yet tangy, pieces of yumminess!

  There are also a few of the denizens of the Bayou that prefer my persimmons over their normal meals.  Possums and coons seek out the tree and start swiping the fruits even before they turn orange.  Today when I sent Ms. Ez down the hill to do her business, she got side-tracked at the persimmon tree.  That old dog stood staring up into the branches and that could only mean one thing.  She spied some culprit eating my fruit!  I made my way down to see what the old dog treed. Sure enough, a small raccoon was perched up in the branches.  Under the tree were the remains of a dozen or so unripe persimmons.  How is this little guy eating green persimmons?  Those things will pucker up your mouth until it feels as if it is being turned inside out! He must have been really hungry to tackle this meal!

  I watched the raccoon for a bit as he watched us.  It was sort of a standoff to see who would cede to the other.  Ms. Ez started jumping up and down trying to reach the little fellow but he was a bit too high for her.  As long as he stayed still, he would be safe from the old dog. He did and he was. She and I headed back to the Little Bayou House and left him in peace. By morning, dozens of half-eaten persimmons will litter the ground beneath the tree.  He will drop most as he searches for that one elusive sweet one.  Good luck, Little Fellow. I don't think you will be finding any sweetness in the tree tonight!