Land 



of the Bayous 



The Delta of the Mississippi 



There are areas on this earth that take on a most vivid character 

 but only in certain circumstances, or literally under certain 

 circumstances, for it is the atmospheric condition of the sky 

 above them that brings out their wonder. Some of these are like 

 the proverbial eyes of a toad — little islands of exquisite beauty 

 surrounded by comparative drabness if not downright ugliness. 

 I came across one of these in the area known as the Mississippi 

 delta — and by this term I mean the true delta of the Mississippi 

 as defined in the map legend, not the upriver bottomlands which 

 local residents call "the Delta." 



We came to this place unexpectedly while boating down a 

 bayou whidi looked much like any other muddy creek, inlet, or 

 river crossing a marsh. We had turned into a small side slough 

 bounded by levees about six feet high covered with palmettos, 

 willows, and other woody shrubbery. There were also some oaks 

 standing to one side, but around the rest of the shore were only 

 a few low bushes and clumps of tough grass. We climbed the 

 bank and saw beyond it a seemingly endless marsh going off to 

 the horizon. In the foreground at the bottom of an abrupt clayey 

 slope was bare mud, in part covered by water and in part by 

 short sedges. Beyond this was a carpet of bright green stems 

 waving in the wind and dotted with egrets of pristine whiteness. 

 There happened to be a small ginger-colored raccoon messing 

 about in this mud when we appeared. He immediately went 

 galloping off and disappeared into a solitary cypress tree 

 festooned to its root with an enormous load of Spanish Moss. 



The bank we stood on was a natural levee. The river was 

 behind us. while to our left grew the scattered oaks. To the right 

 the ground dipped slightly into a wood, the crown foliage of 

 whose trees was a beautiful, soft blue-green but festooned with 

 waving Spanish Moss. The edge of the wood was concealed 

 behind a rampart of palmetto palms growing to a height of 

 about ten feet. We wandered down the bank to this wood, which 

 formed a fairly narrow strip between the marshes and the river. 



That day the sky was cloudless and of a pellucid pastel blue. 

 This was reflected from the surface of the dark brown waters of 

 the river as a rather violent deep azure with an almost electric 

 quality. The sunlight was of an intensity seldom seen except 



The delta of the Mississippi is clothed in marshes and prai- 

 ries intersected by a network of bayous, and here and there 

 raised levees and hummocks. Inland are cypress forests. 



