Winter Fat

It’s suet season for the birds who visit my gardens. This over-wintering Orange-crowned Warbler, Leiothlypis celata, is a frequent nibbler of the peanut butter infused, commercial suet block.

I only offer suet in the cooler months of the year. Central Texas is far too warm from April/May until December, to set out suet. It melts in summer’s heat or turns rancid in balmy autumn; it becomes gross and the birds won’t touch it. Can you blame them? There are better alternatives for commercial bird food in those months: sunflower and safflower seeds, peanuts, and mixed varieties of seeds all give proper nourishment for birds, and while the birds are eating and jostling for the best perches, entertainment for humans. In winter, suet provides needed calories during cold temperatures, though black-oiled sunflower seeds and peanuts also supply healthy fat alternatives as well.

Using commercial bird seed in the yard is a wonderful way to observe, appreciate, and learn about our native and migrating birds. That said, native plants which have foliage, produce seeds and fruits, and host a variety of insects, are the best food sources for birds. Plants and birds evolved together over eons, and plants exist to feed and provide cover for critters. A garden full of native trees, shrubs, perennials, and annuals is not only beautiful, but more importantly, is alive with activity and life. Birds, pollinators, mammals, and reptiles seek food and shelter in a diverse ecosystem–no matter the size. Human caregivers of garden ecosystems can appreciate the garden’s beauty while enjoying the antics of those who need the garden to survive and thrive. A healthy, diverse garden community is vital for wildlife and a continual source of fun and learning throughout the year.

Winter is a good time to plan a new garden. Removing some (or all!) of your sterile, water-hogging, high maintenance turf, and replacing it with native plants is the way to bring nature home: to provide a safe place for wildlife displaced through urban encroachment, habitat loss, and improper chemical use.

So far this winter, the Orange-crowned Warbler is the only winter migratory visitor at the suet. I haven’t yet witnessed suet snacking from Yellow-rumped Warblers or Ruby-crowned Kinglets, though I fully expect to. Some resident birds, Carolina Wrens and Black-crested Titmice, have made a stop at the suet feeder part of their daily rounds and are suet buddies with the Orange-crowns. 

In my garden this winter, I’ve observed two Orange-crowned warblers, as well as one Yellow-rumped Warbler and one Ruby-crowned Kinglet. These three species are not native to Texas, but migrate south for the winter months; there are usually a few of each in my gardens from November through April. I enjoy their presence in the garden and having feeders allows me to observe them more easily. These flitty, tiny birds are challenging to observe in trees and shrubs! Once all the foliage from the trees has dropped, the birds are easier to see as they bop about the limbs, eating insects, and chasing one another in duels for the best eating spots.

This female noshes at the suet and peanut feeders several times each day. I buy my suet from Wild Birds Unlimited, but many bird fans make their own suet and there are plenty of recipes on the internet. 

Winter is a great time to bird watch and plan for the next garden season. Gardening with, or simply observing native plants is a small but powerful counter in a world where we as individuals have little control or positive influence. Spending time outdoors, listening to bird and insect song, creating and nurturing life and diversity with a native garden is a balm for an often broken world and a positive step toward a more hopeful future.

Yellow

There’s yellow,

…and then there’s yellow!

Autumn migration is in full swing! Year in and year out, a most dependable visitor to my gardens during both spring and autumn migrations are the eponymous Yellow Warbler, Setophaga petechia. Flitty, flighty birds, these little darlings are a treat to see. I nearly always have birds of both genders stop in for a time; sometime they come as couples, often, they visit separately.

A female Yellow Warbler bopped around the Rough-leaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, growing near the pond. I planted this small native tree in this particular spot to give both resident and migratory birds a quick hiding place up and away from the pond. It also offers creamy fall fruits for noshing, if that’s on a bird’s menu.

Ms. Yellow used the foliage wisely, cautiously peeking out before her forays to the pond.

There are plenty of spots for tired, hot, thirsty birds to settle in for a drink and a fluttery bath.

Later, her mate, or maybe a random Yellow dude on the same travel path, came by to check out the water feature.

In the avian world, the male birds are nearly always brighter and more colorful than their female partners. The Yellow Warbler male also rocks rusty streaking on its chest which the females lack.

The Yellow Warblers are heading to Central America and parts of South America, along with millions of other birds. They have treacherous travels ahead before they land in their wintering quarters. My garden, especially the pond, provides safety and respite for the stalwart wanderers and the maintenance of a wildlife habitat is a responsibility I’ve wholeheartedly accepted. Wildlife-friendly gardens are necessary in a world where buildings, roads, sterile lawns, and all manner of urbanization has damaged and reduced the natural world.

Bumbling in Baskets

The annual American basket-flowers are nearing the end of their cycle. There are still a few stalwarts blooming, but basket-flower foliage is crispy, most flowers are spent, and seeds are scattered and scattering. Those flowers still flowering are doing what flowers do: opening prettily for the gardener and supplying sustenance for the pollinators.

Pollinators–native bees, honeybees, butterflies and hummingbirds–are active at the baskets in the early morning hours, before searing, oven-like heat sets in and the baskets close for business. Just after daybreak, there are many honeybees and nearly as many American Bumblebees at the baskets, partaking of the flowers’ gifts.

The Bumbles crawl in, around, and through the lavender filaments, adorning themselves with pollen, afterwards moving to the next available bloom. The insects buzz by one another, focused on their next landing, seemingly aware that sharing space is a necessity. Some rules of the road are employed by these critters, as there’s never a crash, nor a disputed landing spot.

Bee butt!

The bumblebees move constantly, with determination, alighting on as many flowers as possible in the few hours that the flowers beckon.

I estimate that in a week’s time, there will only be a few of these stunning wildflowers remaining in the garden. I’ll miss them with their glorious, elegant blooms, dramatic heights, and wildlife they attract, but time moves on, seasons evolve, plants change and die. It’s time. Pollinators will segue to other flowering plants as the garden advances into August.

Thousands of seeds have dropped, a few picked up by birds and maybe squirrels; most lie dormant in the soil for the near future. Winter’s cold and rain, coupled with spring’s dew and longer days will encourage germination and growth of the seeds. Most of the seedlings which appear will be pulled and composted, but those left will continue their path towards beauty and life. Next summers’ bounty is already in play.