I’d be honored to introduce you to a good friend of mine.

Thank you, Mr. Gunn. Welcome to my world, ladies and gentlemen – my name is Bubba. It is dark outside as I write this in the middle of the night when it is a little cooler. The strange sounds and smells of the swamp near my house resonate always and everywhere. 

During the daytime, the swamp just lies there like a dark green, heavy carpet of odors, yet it is alive. The buzzing and whirling of winged insects are constant. Whooping cranes, red-tailed hawks, and snowy egrets patrol the edges of the swamp for their meals, yet they avoid getting too deep into the swamp to avoid being someone else’s meal. Red-bellied woodpeckers search for insects in the trees or in flight.

At night when there is no moonlight, all one sees are the reflections of the eyes of my friends, the creatures of the swamp. The night breezes and sounds fill the air like a great chorus. The crickets sing soprano, the male cicadas sing alto, and the bullfrogs add their baritone sounds. Occasionally a loon or a screech owl or a lonely tree swallow will perform a solo. Red-eyed bats swoop down to grab a quick drink from the swamp then soar up to find late-night feasts. When there is moonlight, it will cast frightening shadows through long dreadlocks of Spanish moss hanging from both the living and the dead trees. Those shadows are reminiscent of my own hands – wrinkled, dark, long, and a sickly shade of gray brown.

Mr. Gunn thought you might be interested in hearing some of the stories I have accumulated over my many years. (He left me minding the store because he’s busy writing a new novel, but don’t tell anyone.) You can join me for Storytime with Bubba by clicking on the icon above. I will have a new story every week or so. We will meet behind my old house in the glade next to the swamp, and there are plenty of stumps from which to choose a seat.

But be warned – don’t bring any snacks. The alligators and snakes from the swamp are always hungry.