Bayou-Diversity

When it comes to politics, especially in Louisiana, one really can't make some of this stuff up.  Absurd political conduct has a long history in the Bayou State as illustrated by Congressman Robert Broussard's legislation, H.R. 23261, introduced in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1910.  The press labeled it the "American Hippo Bill."

What a glorious event it was, this eclipse of 2017.  With family and friends we gathered in a remote sagebrush meadow along the South Fork of the Payette River in Idaho, a stream fresh from the Sawtooth Wilderness that still carried snowmelt even on this late summer morning.  Our chosen viewing post fell directly in the path of the umbra - the shadow projected when the sun is entirely blocked by the moon.

Every autumn a multitude of people in the northern hemisphere contributes billions of dollars to local economies in order to look at brightly colored leaves.  The attraction, when green leaves of hardwood trees turn brilliant shades of yellow, orange, red, and purple, is a result of chemistry pure and simple.  Well - simple to a chemist maybe.

At the turn of the 20th century, the science of wildlife management was in its infancy.  Reeling from the catastrophic human-induced losses of America's iconic fish and wildlife resources such as the vast bison herds and billions of passenger pigeons to market hunters and countless plumed wading birds for the sake of vanity, a growing contingent of citizens began demanding a counteractive response to the wholesale pillage of nature.

One definition of the word 'lurk' is to lie in wait in a place of concealment.  Among those birds that spend time along Louisiana bayous, one species in particular can be said to exhibit this behavior as a matter of habit.  Rain crows, often heard but less often seen, are bona fide lurkers as they perch with hunched shoulders that belie a long, graceful neck in a pose that for all the world appears to me an expression of guilt.

Wild critters walk, fly and swim among us Louisiana folks.  While all are interesting, a few are downright strange, or at least strange looking.  The unusual appearance of some animals is often caused by skin aberrations usually linked to genetic abnormalities.

In the dog days of summer after the fresh-split firewood reeking with the sweet acerbity of tannin is stacked in a neat pile close by the house, we become crepuscular.  Like certain amphibians striving to maintain a proper balance of body fluid and temperature, we venture forth into the out-of-doors only in the twilight hours of dawn and dusk, leaving behind our artificial cocoons of refrigerated and dehumidified air.

In teaching kids how to fish, one of the first obstacles that must be overcome is what has to be an innate urge to throw rocks and sticks into the water for the sheer joy of it.  Every fisherman knows that such commotions only scare the fish away.  Within the world of birds though, some of the best fishers actually incorporate this behavior into their pedagogy.

There is little doubt that most indigenous cultures perceived their connectivity to and place on the landscape very differently than modern society.

The relationship was knowledgeable to the point of intimacy with the geography of their lives. Such wisdom was and in many cases remains critical for survival. Knowing and labeling the places where fish concentrated, where the enemy lurked, where refuge could be found in the time of flood was essential.