Garden Art

Posted on October 21, 2020 by Tina

As it’s Texas Native Plants Week, I thought I’d contribute a photo which profiles a few of the lovely native plants in my garden, as well as a seasonal piece of garden art which has highlighted the front garden this fall.

Clockwise, starting from the bottom left of the photo: the winter rosettes of Big red sage, Salvia pentstemonoides and moving upwards, the pink blooming shrubs, Rock rose, Pavonia lasiopetala. Behind those, peeks out white blooming Tropical sage, Salvia coccinea paired with some spikey foliage of a Red yucca, Hesperaloe parviflora, plus three, second year Big muhly grasses, Muhlenbergia lindheimeri. The two yellow spots of sunshine in the background come in the form of Plateau goldeneye, Viguiera dentata and their frothy, cloud-like companions are Frostweed, Verbesina virginica. Lastly, the diminutive daisies dancing at the bottom right are Blackfoot daisy, Melampodium leucanthum.

For more information on growing native plants in Texas, check out these informative sites, Native Plant Society of Texas and the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center.

Native plants are beautiful, easy to grow, and reflect the place where you live–in Texas, or elsewhere. Native plants evolved alongside their companion critters and so attract and nurture pollinators, birds, and wildlife of all kinds and sorts.

Native plants bring a garden to life.

I’m linking with Anna, in Oregon, for Wednesday Vignette. Additionally, I’d like to give a nod and a link to OregonFlora, a gorgeous website profiling the native plants of Oregon. This site gives information about where native plants of Oregon are found, how to use them in home gardens, and lots of other valuable information for anyone interested in native plants. This site and the work related, is headed by my friend, Dr. Linda Hardison with her Oregon State University team.

Native plants rock!

Big Red

Posted on July 27, 2020 by Tina

When I was a child, I liked the soft drink Big Red. Shockingly red and overly sweet, Big Red is a cream soda which originated in Waco, Texas and was marketed throughout the southern half of Texas, which included my native hometown of Corpus Christi in South Texas and my current hometown of Austin in Central Texas. Fast forward multiple decades, add some (?) maturity, a bit of culinary discernment, and a passion for gardening, and I discovered another Texas Big Red that I love even more: the beautiful perennial, Big Red sage, Salvia pentstemonoides.

I became familiar with Big Red sage when I worked for a handful of years at Zilker Botanical Gardens (ZBG) a couple of handfuls of years ago. The objects of my admiration grew in a full-sun garden which bordered the main parking lot and was part of a troupe of other tough, native plants. Big Red sage grew from lush, evergreen rosettes, sending bloom spikes upwards to three feet tall in May. Rich red blooms decorated the bloom stalks for the summer months. As I tended the gardens and observed the spring and summer bloom cycles, I liked the Big Red sage so much that I purchased several for myself from Barton Springs Nursery.

I planted the Big Reds in my back garden, adjacent to my pond where they were very happy for 5 or 6 years. Because my back garden is shadier than the garden I tended at ZBG, the stalks leaned a bit, rather than growing in the erect fashion as preferred, but the plants bloomed well for several years, adding pops of deep magenta along an elegant bloom stalk throughout the summers. Hummingbirds and several species of carpenter bees were regular visitors, enjoying nectar enclosed within the blooms.

Once the bloom season was over, I’d prune the stalks to their rosette, leaving an evergreen groundcover, in its resting state, awaiting the next bloom season.

Over the past few years, I’ve moved all four plants to my front garden as they experienced increasing shade and declining blooms where they first lived. Big Red sage is a plant that should bloom and for as much and as long as possible. For that, it needs a good dose of sunshine.

Where they now sit along the driveway and near the street, they receive blasting west sun and bloom well in their sweet spot. I moved the Big Reds in two different autumns and all transplanted easily, flowering without missing a beat the first springs after their migrations. These native perennials don’t require much water; this year, I’ve only watered twice.

The color of the flowers is interesting: early morning sees the blooms in a deep purple/ red hue; the hours following, a pinking-up occurs, though the blooms remain a definite rich red.

Hummingbirds visit the Big Reds, but the most common visitors are the Southern Carpenter bees and the Horsefly-like Carpenter bees. Mostly, these bees nectar steal, but presumably–and hopefully–there’s some pollen gathering during those feedings, owing to the carpenter bees’ size and pollen gathering hairs. That said, my Big Reds have yet to seed out and I’d love to have some baby Big Reds. It might be that pollination is limited or that I mulch too thickly for fallen seeds to take root.

I like the way the bee holds on to the bloom itself; a bee-to-flower hug.

Aside from its beauty in the garden and value for pollinators, the Big Red sage has an interesting history. It is endemic only to Central Texas, not occurring naturally anywhere else. It was discovered in the mid-1800s and by the mid-1940s was believed extinct. But in the mid-1980s several different populations of Big Red sage were discovered and several groups of Big Reds have been found since, though some established colonies have disappeared. According to the Native Plant Society of Texas, the plant’s natural range was originally a “ten county” region around Kendall County; Kendall County now boasts about 60% of the surviving natural colonies.

Barton Spring Nursery in Austin carries the plant (mine were in one-gallon pots) and Native American Seeds has carried the seeds in the past, though with a quick look-see of their 2020 spring catalog, I didn’t spy any, but it’s an interesting catalog to peruse nonetheless. I recall that I’ve seen Big Red sage listed in the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center bi-annual plant sales.

For more about Big Red sage, check out these two articles from the Native Plant Society of Texas: On the trail of big red sage and New stand of big red sage found

A Roof with a View

Posted on June 26, 2019 by Tina

With apologies to E.M. Forster, it’s always interesting to see someone or something through different eyes. But first, some background: we’ve had a raccoon visiting our back garden. We haven’t actually seen him or her, but twice it has knocked over one of my bird baths. This is a blue ceramic that we all like: the gardener, the birds, the bees.

This photo is several years old and the bird bath sat in a different area of my garden at that time.

It’s an old bird bath and has been knocked over before, but this time the fall was fatal–the fall busted the basin to the point of no return. I purchased a commercially made, large, heavy, container pot drainage plate and glued it using E6000 to the original and undamaged bird bath pedestal.

Voilà!

Two nights later, the marauding monster knocked the entire bird bath over again. Scoundrel! The plate, now bird bath basin, wasn’t dislodged from the pedestal and no damage occurred, except to my back as I Iifted and set the bird bath upright once more. That the now heavier bird bath can be upturned and its basin remain attached and intact is a testament to 1) the strength, and perhaps size, of the raccoon, and 2) the adhesive power of E6000. I learned about the magical powers of E6000 when I was studying art, specifically ceramics, in recent years. The stuff works!

I can also tell that the masked miscreant has been mucking around in my pond. The fish are skittish, the pond lilies askew, and the water murky.

Additionally, once or twice recently and well after dark, we’ve heard a sort of thump on our roof or patio cover (it’s hard to tell exactly where). Is this a visiting raccoon or is he/she perhaps squatting somewhere on our property, possibly on the roof? Raccoons have moved in under our solar panels in the past, but they were juveniles, small and oh so cute, and their homesteading occurred in late summer/early fall after their mamas booted their fuzzy butts from parental care. We’ve installed a metal protective barrier between the roof and the solar panels to prevent such critter habitation, but raccoons are strong–remember the bird bath. Could one have busted the barrier?

So out comes the ladder and up goes The Hub to check out any evidence or damage indicating raccoon invasion or vandalism. From the ground, the only thing I could see under the solar panel was a suspicious lump. Might that be a raccoon, snoozing in the morning? The Hub verified by spraying water from the pitch of the roof downward and under the panels. The lump didn’t move, didn’t shift. Turns out, it was a bundle of leaves, but when you’re on the hunt for a rascally raccoon, it’s good to check out all suspects. Thankfully, there was no obvious raccoon renter on or near the roof. Whew! That’s good news, though I’m sure our mischievous mammal is still around, most recently squashing some plants at the base of a tree. Varmint!!

While on the roof, The Hub took pictures of the garden with his phone. We live in a one-story home and I’m not one to hang out on rooftops, so it’s a view I don’t often enjoy. The photos demonstrate a different and delightful view of the garden I know so well.

The back garden is pie-shaped and the far corner is completely obscured by the tree. The rest of this part of the garden is also mostly hidden by the lush canopy of the Red Oak tree, but two of our three bee hives sit in an open area.

Moving leftward, the main garden with the pond, comes into view. My back garden is shady (pop-up sunflower, notwithstanding) and growing showy flowers is challenging, but I’m pleased that foliage variety is apparent from above and lends interest to this large garden.

The central and narrower part of my back garden hosts the pond, seating areas (some of which are out of camera view) and two other perennial gardens, left of the photo.

The northern, left-most part of the garden is where the raccooned-targeted bird bath sits. The new basin is shallower than the original, but I think the birds will like it, though so far, they’ve been shy about taking a plunge. The bees however, approve; they were ready for sipping before I added water.

At the left of the photo and hidden by the overhang of the roof is a fence with a gate which leads to the compost bin and a work/storage area. If you look at the bottom right of this photo, you can see the remains of the broken bird bath basin. Darn raccoon!

I’ve allowed some late summer and autumn wildflowers to seed out in this area, where I also house yard waste bins, extra mulch, and other garden paraphernalia. This area becomes messy, but sometimes, I tidy it up. Sometimes.

The front of the house hosts a raised bed in conjunction to the driveway. You can see an edge of the solar panels and the darkened spot is where Hub ran the water underneath the panels to flush out, the “raccoon” that wasn’t. This part of the garden enjoys significantly more sun than the back garden, though it just barely qualifies as “full” sun. Still, I can grow many bloomers which please the pollinators. Yay!

The last major part of my garden lies in front of the garage, to the right of the above photo. Shaded by a declining Arizona Ash tree, it’s a nice place to sit and pet the cat (if he’s out), finish the crossword puzzle, or chat with neighbors–all of which we do. The mulched walkway leads to a narrow side garden.

I take photos of my gardens at least once during each season because it’s a good way for me to see things that, somehow, I don’t directly observe with my eyes. The view from the roof is revealing and instructive, seeing my garden like the birds see it–looking down upon diverse and mixed foliage, and viewing the flow of pathways and islands of gardens. I now recognize that there are things and areas that I might change, but I’m glad my space is all garden, full and lush, and a welcome home for critters.

I wouldn’t mind, however, if the raccoon critter would move along to another place.

I’m pleased to join with Anna and her Wednesday Vignette. Check out her blog, Flutter and Hum, for musings of various sorts.