A Walk in the Marsh

On our recent holiday trip to Louisiana my parents took Craig and me and the children to a wildlife refuge near their home. Mom, Miren and Lise tried to hike the same trail last summer but gave up after braving a relentless sun, humidity that, with sweat, left them drenched and a multitude of bugs. They had, in their short stroll, encountered an abundance of marsh life and we began our December afternoon walk with hopefulness. Miren and Lise did not recognize the marsh as the same one they had visited. The grasses that once sought to overtake the boardwalk turned with a winter’s crispness tiredly away from the raised wooden trail. The marsh itself seemed to stretch in the brisk dry air and everything rested motionless except for the wind that chilled us as we stood exposed with the few tall pines that daringly crept into the wet grasses.

The water shone slick like glass without a single ripple to signal life beyond the surface. We spotted a gathering of waterfowl among broken branches of moss laden trees near deeper water. Dad, a seasoned bird watcher, pulled his binoculars from his jacket pocket and helped the girls get a closer look. The birds seemed to enjoy the day’s tranquility as they quietly joined us in surveying the wide expanse of marshes along the edges of Lake Ponchartrain. We spied a Great Blue Heron in the distance and then another one close up. Both stood tall, confident and sleek with the pomposity of an easy, well-rewarded existence in the abundant wildlife refuge.
Filled with comparisons to his own back yard, Dad’s observances enlightened us to the multitude of wildlife that enjoy the seeds he puts out as well as the fruit from the trees in the modest acreage of his own refuge. Mom suggested that he conduct tours there and Lise and Miren agreed with serious discussion of including their own sightings of turtles and rabbits along with snakes and birds into Dad’s backyard tour.

Rem, although only days from spending hours playing in deep Asheville snow, did not like the Louisiana cold and hurried us along the trail toward warmer, protected places. The promise of fresh seafood for dinner prompted the rest of us to quicken our pace and head back to the car.