Mystery photo is for the birds

A monumental mystery is solved.

“Monumental” is a key word here.

The answer to the latest “What is this?” mystery photograph, a puzzle we occasionally run in this Sunday space to tweak mental synapses, begins with the megaphonic grind of chainsaws. Many of us — survivors of Camille, Elena, Georges and Katrina — have learned to associate chainsaw cacophonies with hurricane aftermaths as fallen and injured trees are cleared away.

With heartfelt thanks to a chainsaw sculptor named Marlin Miller, we now realize that the cacophony can symbolize renewal. We learn that beauty can be carved from the ugliness of disaster.

This history mystery spotlights dozens of Miller monuments, stretching on the Coast from the Infinity Space Center in Hancock County to the Jackson County Welcome Center in Moss Point. Storm-dead trees are magically transformed into dolphins, marlins, herons, even angels.

For this mystery, however, we photographically spotlighted just one of Miller’s monuments — the eagles in the U.S. 90 median near the University of Southern Mississippi Gulf Park campus in Long Beach.

All the sculptures, however, are worth studying. They have been featured in newspapers, TV and magazines nationwide. We’ve watched visitors brave traffic to snap photos of the wood sculptures, the majority of which grace the median of the busy beach road.

For those who want to explore the “Katrina Sculptures Trail,” which stretches about 40 miles, a free touring pamphlet is available at the Biloxi Visitors Center and similar spots. A book on the sculptor and his dead-tree art is also available.

Inspiration from earlier artist

The story begins with another sculptor. Dayton Scoggins created a sculpture garden near the Biloxi Lighthouse after the city hired the chainsaw artist for $7,000 to turn dead oaks into seabirds and dolphins. The garden was unveiled in 2007.

Miller, a Fort Walton Beach, Fla., artist, was inspired by the original fenced-in garden and offered to reshape a few more dead trees for free for the city. He remember how Biloxians and others on the Coast had come to his beleaguered community after Hurricane Ivan and he wanted to show his appreciation.

Miller’s work became a healing process not only for himself but especially for Coast residents who’d lost so much tangible sense of place.

Biloxi now has at least 20 of his sculptures. Although Miller started with his own limited resources and time, corporations began donating money and supplies that let the project grow into three years and other communities. Even a chainsaw company donated.

Some of Miller’s other woodwork is available for sale locally, but not the Katrina trees, of course. I cherish a pelican he carved from driftwood and displayed at a festival booth in Pass Christian. I keep Mr. Pelican in my Virginia house as a reminder of my unbreakable connection to the Coast.

For Katrina’s 10th anniversary last year, Miller was back, restoring the sculptures with pest control, varnish and wood repair. In a Sun Herald article published nationwide by The Associated Press, Miller told reporter Mary Perez, “Eventually, nature will reclaim some of the sculptures.”

Hopefully, modern restoration can keep most of them “alive” for another generation. The remarks of readers who responded to this photo mystery indicate their importance to the Coast psyche.

Readers solved wood mystery

The majority of responders guessed the Katrina sculptures, but only one, Ethel Hetrick of Waveland, pinpointed the correct soaring eagles in Long Beach. I’m not surprised since there are dozens of Miller’s creations across our coastline.

Because of deadlines, I must write this as more guesses come in, but here’s a couple of remarks:

“Some of the trees were found to be still alive after they were carved,” Melody Worsham of Woolmarket reminds us. “Hey, they’ve been growing since the landing of Iberville and LeMoyne! Looking like a heron wasn’t going to stop them.”

And this from Cissy Jordan of Jackson County:

“...those beautiful sculptures that replaced our magnificent downed trees following Katrina were a welcome relief to sore, very sore, eyes. The oak trees and salt water cypress were so much a part of our past as were all the wonderful eclectic side-by-side architectural mixtures of the very old and not-so-old houses. It was painful to lose them.

“Along with this lament about the houses I heard many people rejoice about the cypress tree sculpture that suddenly sprouted green sprigs around its base, a symbol of the heartiness of the citizens of Biloxi as well…It gave us heart. We could spring back to life.”

That tree, not far from my Biloxi property, eventually died all the way. Everywhere we turn, there are symbols, things to remember, things to rejoice in. Marlin Miller’s sculptures are among them.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to contact me with their guesses. Especially thanks to everyone who gave the mystery photo a thought, even a monumental, albeit silent, guess.

This story was originally published July 24, 2016 at 12:00 AM with the headline "Mystery photo is for the birds."