Just a bird being a bird!

  While double-crested cormorants are around the Bayou all year long, when the weather turns cooler, we are inundated with those migrating southward.  The local fishermen are not overly happy to see the thousands of fish-eating birds gather in the shallows of the Bay as they look at the birds as competition.  The birds do eat a lot of fish but, in all fairness, they eat small fish.  They do not grab large fish as they swallow their dinner whole.  A large fish would choke the poor bird.  Fishermen do not have worries about a group of cormorants depleting their catch.  Pop always said if you are catching fish small enough to feed a bird, then you "ain't much a fisherman".  I agree. 

  A lot of pier owners do not care for the birds, either.  Cormorants are not like ducks that can stay in the water for a long time.  Cormorants' feathers become waterlogged and the birds need to dry out.  They seek pier posts so they can spread their wings and dry without worry of becoming supper for some predator.  The only downside to this according to the pier owners is that the birds poop a lot!  Most folks find messy piers disgusting and will try to shoo the birds away.  I figure it like this.  A good rain will wash the pier so let the birds borrow the posts.  It is part of nature and I am sure not going to interfere!  

  My whole point is to let the critters be just that...critters.  They do eat fish.  They do use the pier posts as drying stations.  They do poop.  To be brutally honest here, I know a lot of people who have less respect for Mother Nature than these birds do.  At least, bird poop is biodegradable.  The beer cans, bottles and other trash are not.  Every day, I have to scoop dozens of these items from the marsh and I find THAT disgusting.  No amount of rain is going to clean up that mess. This all falls back to why I have more critter friends than people friends.  Carry on, birds, carry on.  You are welcome to use my pier posts as your drying station.

Periscoping Bird!

  Down on the east side of the hill. a path meanders next to the marsh edge.  This is where the old dog, Mr. PJ, and I hike every morning so he can take care of business and I can observe the shallows of the Bayou.  During the winter months, this part of the Bayou is mostly mudflats with just a small trickle of water  that teems with minnows and small mullet.  Periodically, the tide will come in enough for some larger fish to venture in to dine upon the smaller ones but, most of the time, the minnows only need to watch for attacks from above.

  This morning, I could hear an occasional soft splash as if something was hunting those minnows.  I pondered which of our shorebirds was getting breakfast.  As the old dog wandered close to the marsh, the bird was startled enough to stop hunting and peer over the marsh at the possible predator on shore.  A beautiful great egret kept a close watch on the old dog but Mr. PJ had no interest in the bird.

  It amused me to see the egret stretch high above the marsh tips to see who was trampling around on the path.  Its long neck gave it a clear view above the almost four foot tall grass,  I imagined that it was a lot like using a periscope!  The bird probably sensed that it had no worries because it soon went back to scooping up the minnows.  At the moment, a full belly was more important that dog watching.

Quirky Moe!

  With Moe becoming a "resident" heron around the place, I have been able to get to know him pretty well.  When I am on the pier by myself (sans the dog and other people), Moe and I can "communicate" rather well.  As soon as he sees me on the pier, he flies in from parts unknown.  Then he follows in my footsteps as I throw the net to catch his breakfast or supper.  Whereas a distance of ten feet or so used to be the norm, he now runs right up to grab my offerings.  This "up close and personal" bit has given me a bit of a chance to learn more about herons and their antics.  I try to compare my observations with those of different birding groups but noticed that a lot of curious things go unmentioned.  

  One thing that my friend asked about the other day, is Moe's habit of flipping fish before swallowing.  This, I knew from experience of watching other shorebirds.  Flipping a fish around in his beak allows Moe to swallow the fish head first.  Doing this ensures that the sharp fins will not stab his throat as the fish slides down.  Fins of a fish relax back towards the tail.  Had Moe swallowed tail first, those fins would stab him and possibly cause major injuries.  This trick is passed on from the parent birds to their offspring.  

  While every reading provides me with the line "their sharp, dagger-like beak with its serrated edges" not one has mentioned the long tongue that flicks out after the bird has downed a fish.  After each menhaden or mullet, the bird literally "licks" his lips!  I understand that this is more to clean the beak and not to grasp every taste that might linger but it is a rather curious behavior.  This goes hand in hand with another cleaning technique the bird uses.  After swallowing a fish, Moe always scrapes the sides of his beak on a pier post or plank.  I have yet to figure out just why he does this other than to make sure those serrated edges stay free from any morsels that stick...sort of like flossing teeth.  Moe has good oral hygiene!

  Since we are discussing Moe's curious mannerisms,  there is one last thing that tickles me.  We have all heard how dogs cock their heads to one side when trying to decipher what we are saying.  Moe does the same!  Whenever I speak to him, he will lean to one side and eye me questioningly.  So far, he has not shown that he understands one word but I ponder if that will come with time.  Will Moe learn that "Eat" means that the minnows are for him?  Or that "Mine" means I want to use them for bait?  If he hangs around long enough, perhaps...just perhaps he will.

Standing Tall!

  Today was a drizzly, almost rainy day that kept me inside.  Other than an occasional quick run with the old dog, I spent the day on the top of a ten foot stepladder as I am painting the living room walls.  For the first time in my entire life, I felt tall!  A few more days of painting and then I promised the dog that we would spend more of our time hiking about the hillside.  He seems to enjoy that about as much as I do.

 Yesterday, however, was gorgeous and I was able to slip down to the pier for a few minutes.  While there, a tri-colored heron allowed me to photograph it!  Actually, the bird was unaware or, at best, oblivious to my presence and did not care if I had a camera or not.  I could not pass up the opportunity, though, because the lighting was perfect enough to create fantastic reflections.  Despite a few ripples in the water, a nigh on exact image of the heron was repeated in the water.  Even the colors were duplicated to perfection!  It is rare in our muddy waters to see such vibrant reflections and, when they do occur, I am enthralled.

 The tri-colored heron waded about hunting for its breakfast.  Occasionally, it would dart toward a minnow and plunge to grab it.  Watching only for a few moments, I counted no less than eight minnows going down that gullet!  That is one sharp bird....and very photogenic!

Goodbye, Hoodies!

  Hopefully, the critters are correct.  Recently, the critters of the Bayou have been declaring the "demise of winter" and are heralding in spring.  Birds are hunting for nesting sites, the squirrels are playing "chase" and my hoodies have flown.  The Hooded Mergansers are perhaps my favorites of the ducks that visit the Bayou during the winter months.  They fly in sometime during late November and hang around until they think it is warm enough to begin that long flight back to wherever their home may be.  I wish they would stay at least for a while longer.  I never tire of watching them.

  Yesterday, I noticed that there was quite the gathering of mergansers near the pier.  I knew this collecting could mean only one thing...migration flight was to begin again.  I watched as the males were already beginning their courtship displays.  The raising of the crest, the stretching of the neck and the calls all for the benefit of their ladylove.  Any number of males will perform for the favor of a female.  Since Hooded Mergansers are like most other ducks in the fact that they are seasonally monogamous, the courtship starts long before nesting.  The little female has to choose her mate from the many that attempt to catch her eye.  The males parade up in down in front of a female until she goes into a "prone" position on the water which means she has made her choice.  Then, the unlucky chaps move their parade to the next female.   But the gathering yesterday was not only for a mate choosing parade, it was to prepare for the homeward bound flight.

  I will miss my sweet hoodies.  Their absence will be far too long for my liking.  Hopefully, however their nesting business back home will be successful and dozens more hoodies will make the flight back to the Bayou with the onset of cooler weather next fall.  Love my hoodies!

Youngster at Work

  It is a common sight to see the large herons stalking fish along the shorelines, here on the Bayou.  The Great Blue Herons stand in the edge of the marsh or wade belly-deep into the waters to catch their breakfast.  This morning, one leisurely strolled along in ankle-deep waters as it fished.  The bird noticed me as I made my way down the pier but made no effort to flee.  I am near the water just as much as they are so the critters of the Bayou have no fear of me.  This bird is a youngster that was hatched two springs ago.  It never left the area and seems to be doing fine for itself. 

  Most folks think that the herons only dine upon fish.  While that seems to be their preferred diet, these birds will often visit fields and bogs where they will feast upon frogs, insects and rodents.  Anything is fair-game when it comes to their dining pleasure.  The herons will even go so far as to raid other birds' nests to eat the eggs or hatchlings.  But, back to fish, the herons wade along slowly waiting for fish to gather near.  They sometimes stand nigh on motionless for quite a spell before finally making the swift strike.  Herons usually go for the smaller minnows and baby mullet but occasionally literally "stab" a much larger fish.  The small fish are snatched up with lightning speed but the larger ones are speared.  This "spearfishing" utilizes their dagger-like beak. Once a fish is impaled, the heron will shake it to stun the fish before swallowing it whole.  

  Watching the herons along the Bayou never bores me.  Their fishing techniques are quite different than other shorebirds.  The stalking, snatching or spearfishing methods are rather unique and make for interesting viewing from my perfect spot on the pier.  

The Bird That Named Itself

  Most of the time, people give names to things.  This applies to critters, as well.   Birds' names may obviously be due to color...such as bluebirds...or may be attached to some person who "discovered the bird"...such as the Wilson's snipe that recently visited the Bayou.  Rarely, however, does a critter get to name itself.  One did.  The killdeer screamed its name loudly and long enough until folks realized that it was telling us its name.  When the bird takes off in flight, most folks claim that the bird's call sounds as if it is saying "killdeer".  Since the bird had no malice toward Bambi (or any other deer), it was quite clear that it just wanted us to call it by the correct moniker.

  The winter tides have been inviting to all sorts of shorebirds.  They come to forage the mudflats in hopes of a quick meal.  Tiny crustaceans and minnows are often trapped in the miniature tide pools (tide puddles?) that fill low places in the mud.  Sometimes, these low places are nothing more than a footprint of a bird previously in the area.  This morning, several killdeer were busy working the shoreline.  They ran up and down the mudflat, all the while, bobbing their heads like a working sewing machine.  All was quiet except for their insistence in telling me their names.

  Watching the winter visitors to the Bayou would not be complete without seeing the killdeer.  Although they are here year round, it seems that they are more easily seen during the winter months.  Since the birds prefer wide open spaces, the mudflats give me the opportunity to have them come for a visit.  This also gives me the opportunity to ponder things like their names.  The Bayou critters do keep me thinking!

Giving Back

  True friends are just that...true.  They stand by you when things look bad, they help in any way and they give back kindness where kindness was shown.  In this crazy old world, a person is lucky to have a few of folks who truly care.  Sure, there are tons of "fair-weather friends" but barely a handful that will help a person weather the storms.  I am finding that most of my so-called friends are more the sunny type who say they will do anything to help but rarely show up when needed.  No problem.  If there is one thing that I can say Pop instilled in me, it is the ability to do for myself.  It is hard to ask for help so I usually do not.  That is not to say that the occasional true friend that offers a hand is not appreciated, it is just far easier to do things myself than to bend and ask.  I would rather be on the other side of the helping hand. Then, again, there are those that give back more than they received.  Folks like that are a rare commodity and should be treasured.  I am, indeed, blessed with my "handful" of those!  Folks like that give until there is just no more to be given.  

  Sometimes, those returning with a gift in hand are not even humans.  I have often stated that I have more critter friends than human.  We just seem to get along a lot better.  A mutual respect between the Bayou's critters and me has grown to a point that we share and share alike.  If an animal needs shelter or food, it is soon supplied in some form.  They return the favor by merely allowing me to photograph them.  Most show no fear of me as they remember the handouts and appreciate them.  Then, there was today....a gift in return for kindness shown.

  When the old dog, Mr. PJ and I finally made it to the pier between the rainstorms today,  dozens of birds had taken refuge there.  Pelicans, cormorants,  gulls, herons all rested their weary wings.  All of these feast upon fish, yet, there in middle of all of them was a fine mullet.  When I eased my way into the midst of the birds, they seemed to eye my reaction to finding the fish.  Any one of these fine feathered friends could have snatched that fish at any given moment but it almost seemed as if they had left it there for me.  Hmmm?  Was I reading far too much into this coincidence?  Probably....but you have to admit it was a tad unusual of a find.  

  Regardless of whether the birds had intentionally left the fish for me or if, by some quirky accident, they overlooked a fish in their midst, I intend on looking at it as friends helping friends. No, I did not keep the fish.  (I do not have a penchant for eating things that I find already dead.)  I did, however, share it back with my feathered friends.  The good-sized mullet was cut in chunks and doled out to each of the birds.  This they accepted.  We had a lovely picnic before the rains set in again and Mr. PJ and I had to race back up to the Little Bayou House...bit I did so with a smile on my face.

Give To Those In Need

  Hurricane Nate came and went.  It blew through the area quickly and, once again, the Little Bayou House held strong!  We suffered no damage and the tidal surge left little debris.  We are good.  Others did not fare so well.  Some homes and businesses were gutted by the tidal surge, other places were flooded and still others lost their roofs to high winds. The damage to the homes and businesses will not make the national news. That is ok.  We are a resilient folk who have learned to take care of ourselves.  We are used to it.  But all of this is a different story for a different time.  

  Early this morning, Mark and I saw a small tern that looked a lot worse for wear.  The storm had been rough on wildlife and this tiny bird was no exception.  Its feathers were ruffled and it looked plumb worn out from being battered by the high winds.  The small bird sat on one of the pier posts and never made a move to flee our presence.  Since we had work to do clearing the debris line left by Nate, we headed back up the hill and forgot about our friend bird.  All day, we worked getting the place back in order.  This evening, we were exhausted as we headed back to the pier.  The little tern was still there.

  The small tern obviously had a few more problems than we first thought.  Now, it was ravenous.  Pure exhaustion had kept our little friend from catching food.  Well, that had to be remedied quickly.  Since I had caught plenty of menhaden to use for bait, I decided to offer one to my new-found friend.  The weatherworn bird readily accepted the minnow.  It had no fear that I would bring it harm.

  I fed the little bird all it wanted and then it flew to the pier post to rest for the night.  Hopefully, it will still be there in the morning and I can give it breakfast to help it heal.  I love my Bayou Birds.  They are sweet friends.

  Thank you, Mark, for taking the photo.  

Sittin' Tight

  I truly feel for the folks who were (and still are) in the path of Hurricane Harvey.  This storm was a rainmaker and has left behind so much damage.  Here on the Bayou, we were blessed not to have been hammered by this storm.  We did receive copious amounts of rain and, today, the wind has been blowing a gale but this is nothing compared to what could have been.  

  This afternoon as the winds continued, I took the dog out for a jaunty run.  He is doing well and seems to enjoy the cooling breezes that come off the Bay.  We usually make our way down to the pier but, this afternoon, I nixed that idea.  I could see the confusion on his face as I called him back for another hike around the hillside.  My intentions were not to deprive the old dog of his favorite place but to not disturb those already in place.  The pier was being used by some little terns as they tried to weather out the storm.  The birds were hunkered down and sittin' tight.

  The little terns are usually in flight about the area but the stiff winds were a bit hard on their wings.  They sought refuge on the piers and sat facing the winds.  Storms are tough enough on wildlife without me intruding in their space.  Instead of heading to the pier, Mr. PJ and I walked the hillside until another shower chased us inside.  The birds did not have that luxury and had to sit in the downpour.  Poor babies!

He has a lot to learn!

  It is not my custom to harm critters.  I do my best to avoid even upsetting them.  I figure like this.  I do not like be harassed so why would any critter think this was desirable behavior.  This does not mean that I keep far away from my critter friends.  On the contrary!  I get as close as I can to them.  I want them to know that it is not my nature to harm them.  Occasionally, however, a critter is just a tad wary of my presence and has to put on a "show of defiance".

  I was on the pier earlier and noticed that I had a visitor.  A juvenile Green Heron flew in to see if there were any offerings of a breakfast. This youngster had not made my acquaintance as of yet and was a bit leery of me.  It kept to a distance from me as I wandered back up the pier.  The bird would scurry up the pier ahead of me then stop to stare.  A couple of times, it took flight only to make a large circle and land in the exact same spot.  I slowly eased my way closer and closer.  The bird took a defiant stance as if to declare the pier as its own.  Its neck stretched high and its small crest stood erect.  When I noticed this, I sat down on the pier boards.  No use in scaring the tyke!

  The young bird soon became a bit more at ease and began relax a bit even though, it never fully trusted me.  The adult birds will come snatch minnows from my hands but this juvenile had no idea that I was trustworthy.  Perhaps soon, it, too, will grant me the pleasure of becoming friends.  Little Bird, have no fear.  I will not harm you. 

I Am Not Impressed!

  This morning's hike brought us to the pier just in time to find two rails out on the mudflats.  One, the Mama Rail that has come to know me over the past couple of years was the first out on the flats.  She and I have become quite familiar with each other so my presence does not concern her in the least.   The other was a newcomer which seemed to be a younger male.  Since both males and females look the same, the decision that the youngster was a male was made purely by his actions. He strutted, he preened, he put on a rather extravagant display. While the newcomer was trying his best to garner her attention, Mama Rail seemed to flat out ignore him.

  

  At first, he strutted out onto the flats apparently unaware of Mark and my presence.  He sauntered over to one side and fluttered his wings. Mama Rail took no notice. He made a few barely aduible clacks then fell silent.  He saw us, edged closer to the marsh but refused to show fear in front of his "ladylove".  On the opposite side of the mudflat, he flicked his tail to show the white "alarm system".  Mama Rail did not budge. She was not afraid nor was she impressed by his show.  Poor fellow!  As a suitor, he did not impress.  Mama Rail merely stood steadfast in her little nook and ignored all of his efforts.  Tomorrow, perhaps things will be different but today, she was having no part of his antics. 

  Mama Rail is one of the sweetest birds of the Bayou.  For the past few years, she has brought her brood out on the mudflats while I sit and watch.  It is almost as if she wants to show me her kiddies.  I talk with her and congratulate her on a job well done.  I love this little bird.  

A Bug! I Need a Bug!!

  The little teeter-tail raced up and down the pier in search of anything that resembled a bug.  The bird, a Spotted Sandpiper, was most likely a bit hungry after its long migration and a meal was of high importance. The little one needed sustenance before the cool air that was to arrive late this evening.  Up and down, up and down...searching...ever searching for one tiny bug.  I watched as the sandpiper hopped down on one post and jubilantly snatched up a spider.  In the bird's eyes, a spider would work in a pinch.  Then, on to bigger and better things, the bird found a late moth that was clinging to the old boat hook.  Well, a moth and a spider would at least give the bird energy to keep on searching for a meal.  

  It did not take long before the small bird hopped down onto the mudflats.  There, it found a plethora of midges that hovered around the mud and marsh roots.  Hoping to fill its belly, the sandpiper darted about snatching bugs in mid flight.  

  The sandpiper gets its nickname "Teeter-tail" from its habit of bobbing up and down. While there has been no scientific explanation for the teetering habit, the birds do it naturally rather quickly after hatching.  Up and down, up and down....the birds remind me of some balance toy from back when the kids were tots. 

  I sure hope my little friend can find lots to eat before the incoming cold front.  There is nothing worse than to spend a cold, wet night on an empty stomach.  Perhaps I should consider putting suet/insect blocks out on the pier in a last ditch effort to help my little friends.  Maybe??...