GREAT HERON POND, HALF-WAY FILLED BY TIDE
For the past four days, the entire river basin has filled to the brim during high tide, creating a large pond or even a small lake. Left floating on the surface are several pieces of driftwood and two bouquets of gorgeous yellow flowers, looking for all the world like daffodils, even though that would be impossible, of course. I've been pondering what to name this beautiful pond, for it is definitely is its own thing. I thought of Driftwood Pond or Daffodil Lake, or South Dyer Inlet. But it was decided for me when on Day 3, a spectacular great blue heron landed on one of the tiny remaining islands, christening the little lake, "Great Heron Pond," with its presence.
The first two days and the fourth, the water was mirroring the gray sky, all silvery and charcoal, with some green from the trees thrown in for good measure. On Day 3 however, with the sun bursting forth and the sky a brilliant blue, the lake turned a deep sapphire, making the two "bouquets" of yellow flowers hovering above the water's surface even more breathtaking.
Two of the longer pieces of driftwood resembled alligators, which was quite thrilling, and at one point a large silver fish jumped and splashed very close to our house. While Great Heron Pond assembles itself, it looks from my bed as if our entire house begins to float on water. I always wanted to live on a houseboat, so I guess this is my chance to experience something like that.
Once the tide starts to recede, the spartina left behind becomes ever more bleached out, going from initially a bright green on Day 1 into a silvery sandy shade, with just a few green highlights remaining.
Perhaps in the next few weeks we will see more birds headed south, but in the four days of my new lake, there have been very few birds to be seen. Marty did see Ronnie on one of his recent walks, so that was very reassuring. However, the Quackson Five have apparently relocated.
It will be good to get the hummingbird feeders refilled, since I missed the chirpy guys hovering about. I don't know where our hummers go during the long winter months, but I have my heart set on the back yard of our dear friends Dick and Kada Harris in Mandeville, LA. Their yard is an orchid and a hummingbird paradise, just as I hope ours is for osprey, gulls, eagles, herons, geese, ducks and hummers.
