This Carolina Wren, Thyothorus ludovicianus demonstrates its acrobatic talent of feeding on beloved peanuts while positioned upside down. Wrens usually hold their tail feathers up, but while dining in a downward bird position, the wren’s tail feathers appear to be off to the side and against the feeder, maybe helping with its balance?
I’ve seen other birds nosh in the same way. In my garden Carolina Chickadees, Poecile carolinensis and Black-crested Titmice, Baeolophus atricristatus are the the other birds most likely to nibble beak-down and topsy-turvy.
This male Blue Dasher, Pachydiplax longipennis, rested in the obelisk posture, on a sun-crinkled lily leaf, pointing upward to the sky. While it may look like a tail to the dragonfly uninitiated, this blue-striped section of the insect is the abdomen. Dragonflies use this posture on hot days to keep cool, but apparently, Blue Dashers will also use this to signify territorial supremacy. Later in the day, this guy and another dasher spent time chasing one another around the pond. I hope they managed to nibble on some mosquitoes in order to keep up their energy!
Garden drama!
Conversely, this Great Spreadwing, Archilestes grandis, points its abdomen (“tail”) downward toward the water as it hangs from a piece of pond vegetation. This fella perched for hours above the cool pond. I originally saw him in the morning, but he was there at various points in the afternoon, just hangin’. The Great Spreadwing is a damselfly and one of the largest of the spreadwings in North America.
You’ll notice on the right side of the photo that one of the wings has some damage, perhaps from a bird or another damsel or dragon? And look at those beautiful, buggy-blue eyes!
Late summer brings the dragons and damsels out in full force, with plenty of zipping and zooming around the pond. Gorgeous predators, they’re fascinating to observe and sparkly jewels in the garden.
Each July, without fail, at least one of my clump of Crinum lilies blooms. These plants have never been prolific bloomers, though the flowers are some of the loveliest and most fragrant in my gardens. Years ago I dug up a handful of bulbs from my parents’ South Texas garden and mine have flourished, much as theirs did. I’ve since separated my bulbs and established new groups, creating clusters of strappy lily greenery throughout my back garden. I have no firm idea what the plant’s name is, though the flowers look most like an heirloom lily called Grandma’s Pink Lily.
For the most part, these plants serve as foliage accents in my gardens. I grow six individual clusters of Crinums: rich green foliage emerging from bulbs in the ground, arching gracefully, providing a cooling appearance in the hot summer months. Some receive little sunlight, others a bit more, but none grow in full sun as they fry in our July/August heat. I wish they were evergreen, but they give up the growing ghost at winter’s first hard freeze.
This Crinum group spans a small garden wedged between the path to the pond and the limestone patio.
It is also the most consistent bloomer of all my Crinum clusters. Always in July, this group sends up a fleshy stalk or two, which then sprouts five to ten blooms that open over the course of two to three weeks. It’s also the group which receives the most sunlight, at about half a day’s worth during the summer months.
This group has never produced a bloom, but I like the long, green straps near the bird bath along the path to the beehive.
This bunch only receives early morning dappled light, but does occasionally flower.
This Crinum crew has only been in place for about four years. I planted three bulbs as an accent partner to the Turk’s Cap behind them. This year, one stalk grew up and the pinks made their debut on the garden stage!
The large, sweet-pink flowers open in the evenings, remaining open for about two days.
I didn’t see any pollinators as I snapped shots, but in the past I’ve witnessed Horsefly-like Carpenter bees visiting the blooms. As well, I imagine that there are some night-time pollinators who partake from the pinky goodness.
I like the foliage and am content with the fact that these aren’t great flower producers. But when flowers appear, I cheer and relish the summer gift of charming pink and gentle fragrance. Once the flowers are done, the straps remain, green and verdant, until a frost ends their year.
The Crinums’ flowers are done. I remember and appreciate, patiently awaiting another year to enjoy their presence.
My Gardener Says... 