Meanwhile, on the backwaters and bayous of southern Louisiana, the water continues its stealthy surge. Jogging the roads of Stephensville outside of Morgan City, one hears a blurp and an gurgle where there was none the day before, and the water is inches closer to the narrow road that bisects bayou and cypress swamp.
Shorebirds are flocking to the backwaters, snakes and armadillos are on the move, alligators jump, and the whine of pumps can be heard along with the frogs, crickets and cicadas. The feathered remnants of a crushed hawk with a fish in its mouth float downstream, along with the skeleton of what was once a dog.
The panther moves, stalking, flowing, and relentless.
Shorebirds are flocking to the backwaters, snakes and armadillos are on the move, alligators jump, and the whine of pumps can be heard along with the frogs, crickets and cicadas. The feathered remnants of a crushed hawk with a fish in its mouth float downstream, along with the skeleton of what was once a dog.
The prison crew from St. Martinsville, under the watchful eyes of a deputy, is sandbagging the Stephensville road. The men wear black striped suits that call to mind another era. The men are jovial, laughing, and don’t mind the Yankee taking a photo or two. Do prisoners still wear black stripes?
A family down the road is filling white plastic bags from the sand pile near the swing bridge. Mom and dad stand in the back of the weathered battered grey pickup bed, while the kids fill the bags and drag them over. No one talks. Shovel, drag, and lift.
(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).
