THE FATHER OF LEAVES:
As unprecedented as a plant/human hybrid may be in the annals of academia, there are an astounding amount of myths and folklore concerning just such entities, and arguably the most famous example is the Louisiana bayou lurker now known as the “Père Malfait.”
Described as looming, vine covered, mud slathered monstrosity that stands 7 to 8-foot tall, this creature has been said to look like a tangle of willow branches and is known to be able to mimic a tree in order to conceal itself. This, one must admit, would be a perfect camouflage for any beast native to the miles of swamp that cover so much of both Louisiana and Mississippi as well as a good portion of the Florida Everglades, which, incidentally, lies mere miles from Boca Raton.
When the French speaking Acadians migrated into Louisiana at the tail end of the 1700s, they — unlike almost every European immigrant that would follow — adapted to the customs and language of the indigenous Native tribe known as the Bayogoula, which translates as the “bayou people.”
These Acadians — or “Cajuns” as they would eventually come to be known — received a crash course in bayou fauna (as well as its more ethereal inhabitants) from their hosts, and one of the most intriguing was an entity who the Bayogoula had dubbed the “Father of the Leaves.” When they adapted this legend into their own culture, the Acadians converted the fiend’s name into the French “Le Père de Mille Feuilles,” which translates as the “Father of a Thousand Leaves.”
According to the Bayogoula, this Le Père de Mille Feuilles was a mystical being that dwelled deep in the soupy morass of the swamp only to appear as a vengeful spirit that sought retribution against anyone who, with malicious intent, did harm to the Bayou or its inhabitants. It goes without saying that as the population of the wetlands increased with the arrival of European settlers, so did the acts of iniquity, which (according to oral reports) increased Le Père de Mille Feuilles activity from once or twice in a generation to numerous times in single a decade. Eventually encounters with this vicious creature became tragically commonplace.
It was during this terrible onslaught that the terrified Acadians started referring to this leafy menace as “Père Mal Feuilles” or “Father of Bad Leaves,” eventually distilling it to “Père Malfait,” the “Father of Bad Doings.” A name which — justified or not — this creature bears to this day.
As the 20th Century dawned and the light of scientific progress and rationality began breaking into even the darkest corners of the Earth, belief in this monster began to wane in all but the most remote sections of bayou. Cajuns stopped fearing the Père Malfait and began using it as a sort of bogeyman figure to scare wayward children and to keep them from exploring the treacherous and often uncharted regions of the swamp.
Some of the older bayou inhabitants still believe that this mystical monster still haunts the swamp. While it would be presumptuous to discount the beliefs of those who actually live in the swamps, one can’t help but to wonder if the legends that sprang up among the Bayogoula and Acadian people might be based not on a being of supernatural origin, but on an extremely rare, yet very “real,” species.
This bizarre beast might be an unknown mammal or amphibian covered in swamp plants for concealment or — even more preposterously — amass of vegetable matter that somehow evolved to assume humanoid form.
While it’s tempting to dismiss either of these notions out of hand, when one considers the density of the swamps in the United States alone, then it becomes easy to see how Mother Nature might produce a life form akin to a conscious “plant,”capable of concealing itself in this vast morass.
Admittedly the above hypothesis is wildly unsubstantiated, but the proximity of the Everglades to Red Reef makes one wonder if this exceedingly unique entity might not be indigenous to all of the south’s largest swamps. Perhaps the rarity of sightings has less to do with avenging wrongdoers and more to do with natural biological urges. Or maybe with its distinct physiology this being might have an extended hibernation cycle… like I said, wildly unsubstantiated… but intriguing nonetheless.
Perhaps the most logical theory in support of the Moss Man being a flesh and blood — or leaf and chlorophyll — critter is that the Moss man is not a terrestrial animal but some sort of a…
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