July 5, 2013
The most time we’ve ever spent in Texas - six months - came to a close as we crossed the border into Louisiana. The environmental transition was gradual as the East Texas landscape led us farther from the dry mesquite plains and more into the moisture-laden lushness of Louisiana. We got a good chuckle when Chris received a telephoned job offer from a Midland firm at which he applied in December, and no, we were not tempted.
Our last hurrah was to see our names in the Midnats monthly newsletter among those who participated in the bird count. And then there was the invitation to assist with the butterfly count this weekend. I politely declined.
Hurricane Rita, Lake Charles, Sulphur, solidarity . . .
We landed for a week in Sulphur, so named for the mines that were excavated here in the last century. A suburb of larger Lake Charles, the town is home to Citgo oil refineries; its larger neighbor is named for 1780s settler Charles Sallier.
In 2005, the area was hard-hit by category 3 Hurricane Rita, which brought a 22-foot storm surge many miles inland. Considering that we are only about 13 feet above sea level, the damage was extreme. Rebuilding from such an extensive catastrophe takes a very long time; some towns were completely wiped out.
I was very touched when we spotted a fire department flag at half-mast in honor of our 19 fallen Prescott firefighters.
Independence Day . . .
On Independence Day, we did some wandering around the old section of Lake Charles, viewing a number of beautiful Victorian mansions in the Charpentier historic district, one with an alligator greeter on the porch.
We also saw what we think is the Calcasieu Parish house. No idea if that’s the correct nomenclature; in Arizona, it would be a courthouse and since parishes take the place of counties in Louisiana, I’m going with parish house.
On the lawn there was a 1915 monument that was intended to represent national reconciliation and healing on the 50th anniversary of the end of the Civil War.
While downtown, we saw the historic City Hall building that now houses an art and cultural center; judging from the two-story high poster, I was quick to determine it currently houses an Elvis Presley exhibit.
This large American flag draped across the road was a wonderful 4th of July exhibition. Less appreciated was the restless night before with firecrackers popping incessantly.
9/11 memorial . . .
Near there, we walked at Memorial Point, a promenade/park along the Calcasieu River. We were awed by a 9/11 memorial, which incorporates beams from the World Trade Center and a slab of limestone from the Pentagon; the Lake Charles Fire Department escorted the materials to the site.
I quote from the description provided: “The World Trade Center beams rise from a reflecting pool and visitors may touch one of the beams from the walkway. Each piece of glass embedded in the ‘ribbon of souls” represents one of the lives lost in the attacks: earth tones represent the World Trade Center, blue the Pentagon; and green, the Pennsylvania field. The clay tiles contain fingerprint impressions made by people from the community and silently communicate that 9/11 touched all of our lives.”
The limestone is inscribed with the names of two local men who died on 9/11, one at the World Trade Center and one at the Pentagon.
We each placed our hand on the World Trade Center beam, an act that was incredibly profound and energy-filled. It is a beautiful and moving tribute.
Friend Ships . . .
Among the boats docked at the point was an interesting lovely older vessel. We we asked for and were given permission to board the boat that was built in 1958 and that now serves as a training vessel for a nonprofit disaster relief organization, Friend Ships. A cordial young man, David, answered our questions about the vessel and the group.
Wildlife refuges . . .
There are several wildlife refuges in the area, so we took full advantage of the viewing, driving (actually, more like inching along) and hiking (a sweat-hog affair if I ever saw one). The vast expanses of water tend to be unreal after a spell - who from arid climes could imagine it! It seems that all is water or at least extremely wet, soggy, dripping, swampy or boggy.
We have spent inadequate periods of time in south Louisiana at various junctures. It would be fun to remain for a more extended period of time to bask in the atmosphere of all things wet, green, French, Cajun, Creole, Gulf and shipping and so I shall, but not just yet. We have encountered less mosquito infestation than we expected this time of year, almost none really; however, if I ever figure out a commercial application for dragonflies, I know just where to obtain my supply - they are thick pretty much everywhere we go.
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| The water lillies here appear to be all one type . . . |
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| . . . . but what they lack in diversity, they more than make up for in quantity. |
Chris seems to desire to kayak in alligator-infested waters; I have drawn my line in the sand (well, I would if there were dry land anywhere to draw a line): no matter how many articles he reads to me about how relatively safe it is, I choose not to indulge. We did canoe once in a Louisiana bayou, but that was in the winter when the reptiles had retired for the season.
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| I did not care for that grin as we approached. |
North/south . . .
I have mostly recovered from a very odd condition I had Mid-after-land. I can’t exactly explain nor understand it, but evidently, I am sensitive to my magnetic orientation. Our trailer living/kitchen section was toward the north for the six months we were in Mid-never again-land. At the next two places, it was turned the exact opposite. That doesn’t seem as if it should be an issue; however, it caused me to be extremely disoriented. I kept looking for things in the wrong places; everything felt all turned around, which of course it was, but what possible difference should that make when I’m within the same four walls? Ah well, another mystery.
Hidden Ponds, gallinules & such, jambalaya . . .
While the RV park we are in, Hidden Ponds, is not in the resort classification, being primarily a more or less permanent home to refinery workers, it has a nice advantage of a lovely pond right in our back yard and another across the road. In Louisiana, they are ponds; in Arizona, we would call them lakes.
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| Not so hidden after all . . . |
We saw numerous bunches of baby moor hens and gallihoochies. One purple gallihoochie (I will keep this up until I forget what its real name is) was minding its own business, the business being walking along atop the water lily pads to locate bits of delectables thereabouts, none of which would be of note except that its meal-locating was near a red-winged blackbird nest.
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| Common moorhen |
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| In some areas, cormorants look long & hard to find a cypress perch. |
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| An anhinga (say that three times fast). |
The nestowners (they could have been renters; I’m not really sure) were highly agitated and spent great amounts of energy dive bombing the poor dumb bird that didn’t seem to have enough sense to leave the area. Occasionally, he would defend himself and then go back to picking away at something that must have been mighty good to put up with constant attacks.
Jambalaya is on the menu tonight. We stopped at a shrimper’s house and purchased shrimp off the boat for $4 per pound. We saw many shrimp boats docked after their day’s work. Another local ingredient is sausage; they seem to make every kind of sausage known to man here and quite a few we had never heard of.
Best business name (somewhere back in Texas but I forgot to put it in and think it is very clever): Relaxstation Massage Therapy.
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| Evidently, this chameleon realized I could see it, so it quickly changed color. |
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| Will I ever encounter a turtle I don't want to photograph? This one has lost his front leg (to an alligator, I wonder?). |
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| Beef on a beach? That's a new one; we chose a different beach for our shell hunting. Note the off-shore drill rig. |
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