Dock Building Continues

Glowing in the sunset

The dock building continues, and I'm forever thankful that it is. When the process began my first thought was of the birds, both waterfowl and songbirds. The songbirds visit my feeder just as regularly as before, the coots swim around the construction and waterfowl land on the structure finding it an extraordinarily handy perch for finding fishes. Speaking of fishes, they collect underneath it and the fishermen can be found casting their lines nearby. All is well on the riverbank as this structure just seems to add to both the ambiance and the ecosystem. This progress is nothing but good.


As you can see, they've made great progress. The upper framing is in place and today they are putting in the stairs, seen to the left. Taking photos from the bank the foreman smiled and asked me if I was "that lady with the long lens?" Yep...that would be me! He seemed thrilled that they're being immortalized. These guys are very nice and are true professionals. We have all been impressed with the way they treat the river and land while building this remarkable structure.

Here's today's crew. The company is Bubba's Marina Construction. An unfortunate name, but it works in this part of the country I guess. Bubba Doss, the owner, is as professional as can be and he is THE authority on dock building on these rivers. He works closely with TVA following all their rules and regulations, so you know your dock is up to code, made well, and made right AND put in the right spot - which is critical. The foreman is to the left, two workers in the middle and the crane operator is in the red shirt. These guys clamber around the iron structure like gymnasts on a balance beam. They seem unfazed by the height or narrowness of the beam. Like a well-rehearsed dance, they communicate mostly by hand signals and arm movements, and each has their specific job which they do without much talking. They just do it, and do it well. When they weld and sparks fly, why that's my favorite part.

As of today, 953 photos. Seriously. This is cool stuff.

The Comfort Box

My buddy Diane recently wrote a wonderful post about a Simple Abundance passage concerning "comfort drawers." Check it out at Alberta Photography.

That particular book will never, ever gather dust at my house as it's constantly at my bedside and referred to often. I remembered the passage, read it again and thought about Diane's challenge. If I made a comfort drawer for myself I would never find it again, plus weird things would begin to show up in it like a screwdriver, old batteries, and lots of dog hair. I don't need a comfort drawer.....I need a vacation.

But I know someone who could use a comfort drawer these days - my mom. She has been through a couple of rough years physically and emotionally, but we think now that she's on the mend. She has finally, FINALLY received what we believe to be a correct diagnosis and medications that are actually working. It's been a journey for her. A scary journey, a frustrating journey, a maddening journey. Not a good journey. She needs a comfort drawer for those nights she still wakes in fear, thinking the worst in the dead of night all by herself, alone in the quiet with only demons whispering in her ears. She needs a comfort drawer.

However, like me my mom has precious little space in her cottage. So, instead of a comfort drawer I created for her a comfort box. I have these little wooden purses with pretty brass latches. They're lined with felt and ready to be filled with whatever one chooses. One became her comfort box.

My mom and I are what we call "sticks & twigs people." We find tremendous comfort in the gifts of our earth. Both of us bring home rocks and feathers, seed pods and seashells, driftwood and lichens and flotsam and jetsam from our travels. Mind, our travels could be the riverbank or the backyard. However, for my mom's comfort box I went through my various and many wooden bowls and boxes and baskets to retrieve items to remind her of our good times together. A hawk feather and "dove" (homing pigeon) feathers found in my yard here; rocks and shells and a mussel shell from our riverbank; scallop shells from our summers on Holden Beach, North Carolina, a rock and palm tree seeds from Bill & Elgin's yard in Arizona; Indian Bead Corn from the house I grew up in; a red buckeye seed pod from my yard here; a gold crystal bead that belonged to her mother. These items were wrapped in a handkerchief made by her Aunt Gracie that my mom gave to me long ago. These items were wrapped in the cloth, atop which I placed an old, small book of mine that she has always adored called "Springs of Oriental Wisdom."


Baylee and I took it over to her and presented it to her on the front porch. She was so surprised and delighted, taking out each and every piece while I explained to her where it came from and why it was included. She didn't cry, but instead laughed along with me as we relived some of the best times of our lives together. She'll add to it as we share more adventures together.

Before the stories began, she brought out a glass of wine and we "dinked" to our special bond and friendship. I've got the best mom in the world!

The Perch of Kings

A casualty of progress are the gnarled trees cascading off our 25' riverbanks that serve as perches for Kingfishers and other waterfowl. Kingfishers are easily recognizable by their rat-a-tat-tat-tat calls on the wing, long beak and Sting-like haircuts. Their steel blue feathers, russet breast markings and dapper white collar lends a debonair appearance to the riverside, much like wearing a tuxedo to dine at a local catfish restaurant.

This striking tree branch is now serving as safe haven for fishes in the waters downstream, as the tree had to be removed for dock building. The Kingfisher will have a higher perch when the dock is completed, but the dock's steel posts can't compete with this crooked branch for natural beauty. Ah, progress.

Excitement!

Monday morning we wake to a deep rumbling sound out on the river. A bright white tug is pushing a short barge close to shore. They stop and lower those huge pilings into the soft mud below; the tug disengages, then turns westward leaving a crew of men. They're building our neighbor's dock.

I've been spellbound. The process has completely captivated me this week. I've taken close to 400 photos and the crew has only just begun. They're still working on the lower level's iron skeleton. Watching them weld the iron is amazing. These guys have it down to a science; it's a well-rehearsed theater. I promise my blog won't turn into a play-by-play, but I'll update you from time to time.

The upper shot shows their arrival and the lower shot is how they left it before the rains came today. The tug came back, hitched up the barge and headed for the safety of the bay during our storms. They'll be back when the lake calms down.

So this post isn't about buckeyes or butterflies, buttercups or baking, babies or birds, but it sure is bodaciously fun! (...to me, anyway!)

Friday Evening Bird Sighting

Sandhill Cranes
(not black swans)

Late yesterday afternoon, hubby and I were sitting outside on the deck enjoying our first glass of wine on the deck in a breezy late afternoon waning sunshine. It was windy enough for a jacket, but the temperature was temperate and nice. Steady gusts of air kept hair in my eyes and rippled the surface of my Merlot. Gulls are abundant now. They look like the fluffy stuff of milkweed and dandelions floating on the surface of the lake far away. We meditated about the red headed woodpeckers that were romancing each other in their usual raucous fashion, hoping they choose the dead limb overhead again for their brood this year. Bluebirds were feisty and in love, and a robin flew to a high limb and serenaded us during our few moments outside. Goldfinches and house finches scolded us for disturbing their dinner hour, although we were sitting on the opposite side of the deck. They've been spoiled, the finches. High overhead, well above the tree tops, a pair of long necked, slender, solid black birds glided westward. The setting sun set their red beaks on fire. What were these things? Not cormorants - too big and the wing flaps were all wrong. Not frantic enough, and the birds were larger than cormorants. Not turkey vultures. Too slender and fine with a very long neck. Not sandhill cranes - wrong coloration.

It bugged me all night and into the next day. E-mailing my naturalist buddy with TVA didn't solve the problem. He suggested I check my bird guides, so I did. Audubon bird guide, Birds of North America and the Sibley Guide to Birds. I became obsessed about identifying these birds. What the heck WERE they? No common and indigenous birds were standing out. Finally, because I was so obsessed, I checked each guide page by page. (yes, I'm nuts) The only bird that looked like what we saw were ... black swans.

They're from Australia, I know. They're not indigenous, I know. There's no reason for them to be here, I know. However, parks and botanical gardens purchase them so I can only imagine that's where they came from. I still don't know for sure. Carroll finally said to me "JUST SAY THEY'RE BLACK SWANS AND BE DONE WITH IT!!!!" I reckon that's just what I'll do.

So..........I saw black swans yesterday!!! Woo hoo!!! (don't burst my bubble......) No, I didn't get pictures. I was drinking wine, but had JUST started sipping my first glass. Am I nuts?