Jubilee?

 

August 21, 2020, Morning by Mobile Bay

 People who know me well are aware that there are two things that I don’t do well: mornings and exercise. But it is perhaps possible to change my attitude toward each. How? Recently I have been meeting my friend at the pool at his condo at eight o’clock (yes, in the morning, believe it or not.) Like most of us, we’re bored by our self-quarantine, safer at home status. No events at the museum, no writers’ meetings, no concerts, no dinners with friends – you know what I mean.

 We began meeting to watch the sunset across the bay, seated outside near the pool, or at the pier. Sometimes only two of us, at other times, from four to six others, all outside, socially distanced. When the pool opened, that gave another option to see each other and get some exercise since the fitness center closed in March. Since neither of us are sun worshipers we meet when the pool is still shaded and we have it to ourselves. I stretch, walk in the pool, and do some exercises that I remember from water aerobics class for about 45 minutes. We are both through by the time another person arrives around nine.

 The pool overlooks a stretch of the bay with Mobile in the distance. Every day the sky and clouds are different; the water changes, and as a bonus, there are dragonflies swarming in the adjoining grassy area. Often there are gulls, pelicans, and one or more herons to entertain us. From time to time, a large tanker or cargo ship/barge is coming in to or leaving from the port of Mobile.

Today as I approached the pool, I saw a large number of gulls floating in the water and an equally large number of them sitting on the pier of the neighboring boathouse. I walked closer to the see if I could tell what something else was in the water, thinking it might be some vegetation that had floated nearer the shore. But it was moving in an unusual manner, and there were other swirls changing the surface of the water. Gradually I realized that we were having what is known as a jubilee, or at least a small one. A jubilee happens when the wind currents, water temperature, and the oxygen level in the water bring shrimp, crabs, eels, and fishes of various kinds closer to the surface of the water and the shore in their attempt to get more oxygen. Where water meets land some of them beach themselves in some places, and one only has to bring a bucket to pick them up; or a gig, net, or other equipment to harvest them in shallow water. Because of the concrete sea wall, nothing was landing onshore where we were, but crabs had climbed up on the posts in the water left from destroyed piers. The swirls were fishes of various kinds and sizes. Some almost as tiny as tadpoles, then minnow size, on up to fish as long as my outstretched hand. All were swimming in swirling clusters, thrusting their mouths above the surface of the water in search of oxygen laden air.

 At nearly nine o’clock we observed a man tossing in a net from a nearby pier. He said he’d caught mullet, shrimp, and crabs. I walked over to another section of the seawall where the water is shallow at the very edge, with rocks breaking some of it up into smaller pools. I didn’t see the small stingray my friend had seen earlier, but saw an elongated fish called a needlefish, and a mass of very tiny catfish smaller than my little finger. Although there had been shrimp in and around the rocks, I could not see them.

 The gulls sitting on the pier or floating lazily in the water had already had a feast and were no longer feeding. As we watched, the clusters of fish seemed to retreat to deeper water or back out into the bay. From what I’ve heard or read, jubilees don’t occur that often, and even if those watching for them check water temperatures, et cetera during the time of year and places where they tend to happen, they are not easy to predict. Often they begin after midnight and are over by the time most of us wake up in the morning. So it was indeed a surprise to see this one today.

 Words fail me when I try to describe the sunsets, the changes in appearance and surface of the water, the smell or feel of the air around the bay. Nor can I adequately express why I love it so. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even come to love mornings.