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The old adage “Build it and they will come” has certainly worked for me this year. Instead of planting milkweed outside in my butterfly garden, I planted two varieties in pots. This was due to a discovery that milkweed is poisonous to dogs. And our dog loves to romp in the butterfly garden.
In the spring, I found monarch caterpillars on the swamp milkweed. A few weeks ago I found two tiny ones on the tropical milkweed. Because of all the predators (lizards, birds, etc.), I decided to put the two babies in an enclosure. What I thought was two became 6 very healthy caterpillars munching away on both varieties. I was hoping I could keep them fed for the growth period.
Healthy monarch caterpillars
All six made chrysalises. Four of them had moved appropriately to the top, but one made its chrysalis on a stem and another on the side of the cup holding the demolished milkweed.
Over the past two days they all emerged, two on one day and the other four the next.
Beautiful monarch!
I feel a sense of accomplishment that I successfully raised 6 new monarchs to fly free into the world.
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On Saturday morning, my husband and I set out on an adventure to buy a puppy. The previous day, Friday, the eggs in our wood duck house began to hatch. This year we did not have a wood duck, though. The sitting mother hen was a black-bellied whistling duck. We have a Ring doorbell camera mounted in the nesting box near the bayou. We’d been watching the comings and goings of this hen for 30+ days.
Black-bellied whistling duck from Creative Commons
Wood ducks hatch on one day and jump from the nesting box on the next day, Jump Day. So do whistlers. Because we were on the road, we were watching the jump from my phone. I became distressed when I realized one of the babies had not jumped. He was jumping and flipping, but not toward the metal mesh that serves as a ladder. Time passed, so I was convinced the mother and the other 14 babies were well on their way down the bayou. What should we do?
Call Ric, of course. I tried Ric and his wife as well as my neighbor Shirley. All became concerned. And the next time I checked the camera, the baby was gone. At first I assumed he had finally made the leap. Then I got a call from Ric’s wife, Svitlana. She is well known for rescuing animals, cats, dogs, and owls. (Here is a link to the owl story.) She had the baby duck and was researching what to feed it.
On Saturday, we successfully found a new puppy. He is settling in and bringing us joy. We walked over to visit the baby duckling. He is also settling in and bringing joy. His (or her) little life was saved. Ric and Svitlana will keep him safe until he’s big enough to fly. Whistlers are migratory birds, so they have an instinct to leave. The owl has not left the area. He still calls across the bayou every evening to remind us that wild animals can be saved.
“Utochka” Ukranian for little duck. Baby Black-bellied whistling duckling- take a look at those big feet!
Yesterday was Jump Day for our first clutch of wood ducks this year. We had a good mother and only one. Sometimes two will take a box and you can end up with 2 dozen eggs, but not this year. One mother, one clutch, one dozen. She sat for 32 days. I was so relieved they didn’t hatch during this past week’s cold front. They waited for warmth to return. Only 8 of the 12 eggs hatched. This ratio is typical, we’ve learned.
I wanted to watch the jump, but it was a school day. I kept checking the Ring camera and the mother was calmly cuddling her chicks. At 10:15 I went outside to plan a butterfly garden with my student. Then I packed up and left that school for my next school. Yep, that was when they jumped.
My mother-in-law came to our house for the big event with a book and binoculars. She texted me that 8 ducklings had jumped. Four eggs were left in the box. Enjoy the video from inside the nest box. There always seems to be one that has trouble figuring it all out. We cheer for this little guy.
New Chicks
Gentle peeps echo.
Jumping onto mother hen,
New chicks jitterbug.
Like petals on a pinwheel
fluffy down spins together.
Wood Duck Diary Tanka, Margaret Simon, all rights reserved.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Text from Susan Edmunds
When I married Jeff almost 39 years ago, I did not know everything about him, but I did know that he had had a boa constrictor for a pet at one time during his wild childhood. Jeff has a brother who is only 18 months younger. The Simon boys spent a lot of time out in the woods along the bayou. Stories include the time they fished out a shark from the bayou. (Little did they know as young boys that sharks don’t live in the bayou; obviously someone’s throw back from fishing in the Gulf.) But that story is not the one I want to tell today.
Calm in every situation would aptly describe this hero. He sat next to me for hours and hours during natural childbirth…3 times…and never lost his cool calm demeanor.
Susan may not know this about him, but she does know that he cares about reptiles. Susan and Jeff go way back to days when she lead summer library programs, and Jeff would collaborate on ones on canoeing and camping and fishing all through the local Optimist Club. And she may remember (she sent me a photograph once) of a library workshop he brought our middle daughter Katherine to when she was four-years-old, and how Jeff showed particular interest in the snakes. Nevertheless, she texted on Sunday morning, and I sent my hero away to save the day.
Jeff and Susan patiently released 3 tangled rat snakes. photo by Mary Tutwiler.
I am deathly afraid of snakes. Jeff has tried many times to get me over my phobia, and often I’ve become the source of a snake joke. Needless to say I did not personally attend this snake rescue. In fact, I’m having trouble posting the pictures. I refuse to post the one of the three rescued snakes happily wriggling in the bottom of a trash can.
My calm hero was able to patiently cut away the mesh entrapment while Susan held the snakes’ heads. I don’t know which was braver, but combined these two people should win a prize. The snakes were not released in our backyard, thank you very much. They are happily in someone else’s yard.
Here is the text of a thank you email from Susan:
“Thanks again for coming to the rescue yesterday-I don’t think I could have done the extraction solo, the task needed experienced snake rangers comfortable with very close contact! Certainly you handled the snipping far better than I could have, didn’t see any fresh blood! Excellent work.”
Instagram photo by Susan’s husband, James. Those hero hands are mighty close to that snake tongue!
Last week I wrote down two lines from Poetry Friday posts. The first was a line from Amy, “If you let yourself.” The second was a clunker that Linda was giving away. “the wish is the thing.”
From those two line gifts, I wrote this draft that I haven’t thrown away yet.
If you let yourself fail & appear worthless, a freedom sets in. Instead of focus on results, you can concentrate on the work of being human.
If you let yourself trust the sun to fertilize, you can leave the blooming to God & be still– the wish is the thing.
Margaret Simon, draft
I received two gift poems today from Tabatha’s wonderful summer poetry swap. Tabatha herself sent me a snake poem. Apparently July 16th is World Snake Day . Who knew? On that day, I opened my storage shed to get the hidden key to our house, and a small very wiggly snake was at my feet caught up in a spider web. I grabbed the key and ran, leaving the door open in case the little scoundrel got itself loose.
For her poem, Tabatha imagined me going on a snake hunt with my grandson. Coincidentally, Leo and I did find a dead snake in our yard a few months ago. He still remembers that snake and points to the spot where we saw it every time. “Nake gone.”
SNAKE HUNTING WITH GRANDMA
Grandma packs our drinks and snacks,
squirts sunblock and rubs it in.
I pick a stick for each of us
to peek at things hidden.
We need a map to follow—
I draw the view from east to west,
plus rainbow snakes sleeping
next to eggs in their nests.
It’s rainbow snakes we’re hunting—
I see garters every day—
A water snake isn’t rare
and king snakes come to play
(sort of). But a rainbow snake’s
a serpent I haven’t seen,
a funny kind of rainbow
with no orange, blue, or green.
Grandma and I walk and watch,
hear noisy birds, see speedy deer,
steer clear of snapping turtles,
and spook hares that disappear.
As we go, we keep our eyes peeled
for the stripes of rainbow snakes.
If we don’t spot one, we still had fun,
and we will hunt another day!
by Tabatha Yeatts
for Margaret Simon,Summer Poem Swap 2020
I also received a poem from Christie Wyman. She, too, captured the bayou life and joy of grandparenting.
Wandering and wondering Together, hand in hand Through the parish Along the Teche’s shores Among sugar cane and pages
Listening For whispers, songs, and the wood duck’s call Feeling Life in abundance Seeking inspiration
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Yesterday I read Sally Donnelly’s post about choosing a color to represent this time. She quoted an artist who represented the 9/11 tragedy with the color blue. Read her post here.
I started thinking about the color I would pick, and it has to be green. This is the time of year when green appears in all its amazing shades in my backyard. The cypress trees are bursting with a bright neon green.
Looking up through the cypress trees
Live oak trees lose their leaves in the spring as new leaves emerge.
Grandmother Live Oak bursting with spring growth
I am passing my stay-at-home time on my back deck, listening to wind chimes and watching for the occasional boat. And sometimes a poem comes. Using Irene Latham’s prompt from Laura Shovan’s #Waterpoemproject, I wrote this quick ditty.
Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life March Challenge
On Sunday, my husband rescued me from one of my greatest fears, a snake in the house. Little did I know while I was at choir practice, a ribbon snake was dancing in my laundry room. After church Jeff told me how he came upon the small snake while putting the sheets in the wash. He threw the pile of sheets onto the snake and took it all outside, shaking the snake out into its natural world.
I said a prayer of thanks that I was not at home. Snakes freak me out. They always have. I can’t even look at a picture of a snake without cringing.
Fast forward a few days and I was outside walking my dog Charlie. I sent my husband this text.
Yes, I had stepped right next to a snake in the grass, jumped, screamed, and ran. I did also lose bladder control. Yikes!
When I calmed down, I googled common Louisiana yard snakes and found the speckled king snake. These are good snakes, if there is such a thing. They are nonvenomous and eat other snakes, including venomous ones. Good thing I left him in my dust.
Later I received a response from Jeff. He usually keeps reports of snake sightings to himself, protecting me.
Nevertheless, I am putting off any yard work. I think I’ll leave the snake handling to my brave husband.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 