While my mood has not lifted, I am going through the motions of the holidays. The Little Bayou House is as decorated as it is going to get, hundreds of cookies have been baked and the few gifts wrapped. It is going to be a very....very....quiet Christmas here on the Bayou this year. Family members all have other plans so Santa will not be filling stockings at our mantel this year. Instead, the time may be spent thinking of how to go about improving myself a bit. I might as well get a jump on those New Year's resolutions!
The weather, however, is a different story. Most folks would say differently as we have had a cold, drizzly rain for the past two days. Personally, it made me feel better. Hearing the rain pelt the rooftop made me stop and smile at least a dozen times today. If it could rain every day this week, perhaps my disposition would improve. No one has ever claimed that I have a "sunny disposition" anyway so I might as well go for it! Gray suits me fine.
Early this morning, I braved the drizzle to go check on the small skiff moored at the pier. There were a few ducks out in the middle of the Bay but none close enough to photograph. Even my sweet little marsh rail was laying low and could not be found. Perhaps she had taken shelter beneath the heavy marsh mats and was keeping snug. There was nothing interesting to be found so I made my way back up the pier. Then! A bright splash of red made me think of the Season being celebrated. A small Yaupon tree grows at the foot of the pier and its berries were finally ripe. The berries were dripping with water droplets from the mist causing them to look as if they were wearing jewels. I was tempted to snap off a few branches to add to the pine boughs in the entryway but decided against it. The berries were better suited as food for the cedar waxwings that should be on their way to the Bayou.
~As an added note, Yaupon berries are toxic and should not be eaten. Using the berries as seasonal decorations should be done with care if you have small children or pets in your house. The berries have a tendency to drop rather quickly and can be a temptation due to their bright hue.
It is funny how here on the Bayou, a few of the trees have decided that it is now fall. Our weather is not like December weather in the rest of the country. Here it is the very last of November and it is hot! The tree in question is a Popcorn Tree or Chinese Tallow Tree. It is one of those non-native, invasive species of trees that pop up everywhere once one is brought into the area. One seed is all it takes to flood the whole community with unwanted trees. The Bayou is no exception. If I stand far out on the end of the pier, I am awarded a nice view of the meandering waterway and marshes that make up our small Bayou. What used to be lined with Black Gum, Tulip Poplar, Cyprus, Sycamore and Pine Trees is now mostly filled with the Tallow Trees. The hurricanes have taken their toll on our poor woods and left behind mostly undesirable trees. Still, the Tallow trees do have one nice asset. The leaves do give us a bit of fall color even if it is well into November and December.
While I stood admiring the bit of beauty made available to us by invasive trees, an added bit of interest caught my eye. An egret had come to rest on the tip of a dead tree. The white bird was beautiful enough on its own but against the background of reds and oranges, it was purely breathtaking. The bit of contrast of white on red was gorgeous! The whole thing was "picture-perfect". I have a new found respect for the Chinese Tallow Trees merely because of the bit of flair that they added to the view.
I am sure that eventually the larger trees will overtake the small Tallow Trees and swamp them out once again. In the meantime, I pondered the contrast of not only the white bird against a backdrop of red leaves but the contrast of a native Bayou bird against the invasive trees and the dead Tulip Poplar Tree against the healthy Chinese Tallow Trees. It seems as if life, itself, is contrast...
Isn't it strange how just a glimpse of something can bring back a flood of non-related memories? Ms. Ez was being her usual doggy self and decided to get into something not so fragrant. I do believe her play area of choice was a mound of oyster shells that were just getting "ripe". Mark had opened several sacks of oysters last week and the shells have been sitting in a mound since then. This probably would not have been so bad had the weather stayed cold but 80 degree temperatures have a way of promoting stench among the shells. Ms. Ez could not resist so it was up to me to "un-funk" her. A doggy bath was in order. I bathe her on the front steps with the water hose. While doing this, I noticed a bit of loveliness in the form of crape myrtle leaves. These leaves were the brightest red and the setting sun caused them to almost glow! Well, that made the chore a bit easier!
Those red leaves left me feeling a bit nostalgic for some odd reason. Call me crazy but the leaves made me remember a coat that I had when I was just a tyke. I had mostly hand-me-down clothes from cousins and this coat was most likely one of those donations. I was always so happy to get these clothes because these cousins were just a bit older than me and I always thought they were the most beautiful girls on the face of the earth! Anyway, the coat was quite a lovely shade of pink when it was given to me but, lo and behold, a stain mystically appeared on one sleeve. (Keep in mind that this stain had nothing whatsoever to do with me snitching a handful of blackberries Mom had gotten from the freezer! Nope...no way!)
No matter what Mom did to the stain, it refused to budge. Now she could not have me running about in a pink coat with a huge purple stain so she decided to dye the coat. She asked me what color that I would like. I chose purple! Of course! It needed to match the stain. Since Pop was going to the store, she asked him to get some dye. He bought red dye. My pink...wishing to be purple coat soon became red. Mom left it in the tub for a good long time so not to waste the store-bought dye. (She also threw in anything else that might look good red!) Anyway, my nice wool coat came out to be a bit smaller, a lot thicker and red....dark red. I loved it! It mattered not that the coat was now matted, tight in some places, loose in others and not purple. I wore that coat until I could not squeeze myself into it anymore. The next fall when my sweet aunt called and said she had another box of clothes, Mom was so relieved to find that there was a coat for me. I sure miss my red coat!
Just mention that you live on a bayou and a lot of folks get crazy ideas. Some immediately have the notion that you are a "Voodoo Queen" and can conjure most any potion imaginable. You make zombies and put hexes on your enemies. Others wonder how you deal with the constant threat of alligators and gigantic snakes slithering in your house and hanging from the rafters. Then there are those who think that your house is a boat, you have pet otters and alligators and all you eat is snails and polliwogs. Yep, those all sound just about like me! Right. Right. Whatever.
I do admit that just about the time the old Bayou starts to become a bit too placid, something happens that dusts the cobwebs from the brain. A bit of excitement or just a glimpse of something that jars a memory can, indeed, send the adrenalin in a rush. Or, perhaps, something can have just the opposite effect and calm the soul. Whichever it is, just the fact that it occurs on the Bayou, does add a bit of ambiance.
This morning just after daybreak, I was headed to the pier. I turned to make sure that Ms. Ez, the old Bayou Dog, was following me when I noticed the sun. It had been a full twenty minutes since the sun had first peaked up over the horizon but a heavy layer of dark clouds kept the day from seeming bright. What caught my eye was the redness of the sunshine that brimmed over the horizon and through the pine trees. The beams sort of spilled through the mimosas and oak trees to create little glimmering pools of light between the branches. A golden wash had settled upon the yard. Wow! I almost felt as if I had just stumbled into some mystical, fantasy land.
This magical spell lasted only a mere fifteen minutes before the harsh light of day replaced the enchanting golden glow. I felt blessed to have witnessed a bit of beauty that no other had seen. I know that I was in the "right place at the right time" to have seen this in the first place. This morning was tailor-made just for me. Sure that sun sent down its rays for the entire world to see but only on the Bayou, only in my yard, only between the mimosas and oaks did the world stop just long enough for me to be mesmerized by this bit of beauty at dawn.
