Tree Following in January: Big Dudes

Posted on January 7, 2016 by Tina

The American Sycamore, Planatus occidentalis, has big dude leaves.

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It has a few little dude leaves too.

My Sycamore still hosts some leaves, both big and small, though most of its leaves are now on the ground.

Shed has shed.

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There are leaves over, under, and around shrubs, yuccas and all manner of plant material, as well.

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Some have sacrificed their all for the life cycle of the deciduous tree.

In December’s Tree Following post, the Sycamore’s foliage had begun its autumnal color turn, courtesy of the slow down chlorophyll production and the visual uptick of carotenoid manufacture, but now that turn is essentially complete and leaf function for the tree is concluded for the year. In botany, the process of leaf drop is called abscission. Leaf drop typically occurs in late fall and winter, mostly in response to the lessening of light, but also in response to colder temperatures. Abscission also happens during tree stress and, despite its native tree status, the American Sycamore stresses during the hot and dry Texas summer months, some years more than others. Many of these leaves dropped during July and August when our temperatures soared and the rain ceased.

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Except where I find them annoying (clustered ahead of the front and back doors, ready to hitch a ride on the dog’s fluffy tail or to get blown in with the slightest puffy breeze as the door opens), I allow leaves to stay on the ground to become leaf mold and to decay. That’s especially true in the wildscape part of my urban property which doubles as a work area.

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Leaf litter, as part of a wildlife habitat philosophy, is a good thing. Somehow in the past decades, American society was sold on the idea that leaves on the ground are bad and ugly and must be aggressively removed. With great fanaticism, we crank up the gas-guzzling blowers and mowers, add massive noise levels to all of our towns and cities, and spew fossil fuel exhaust into our world to rid ourselves of the offending masses of leaves. Whatever happened to using a rake?

Yes, dropped leaves are a little messy to the human eye,

RICOH IMAGING

…but leaf litter serves as mulch, as protection for insects during winter, and a part of the system of biological breakdown–all good for those who make nature their home.

Within reason, I let leaves lay where they fall. Giving in to my neat-freak tendencies and urban neighborhood standards, I vacuum up large leaves (Sycamore and Oak) with an electric (though still noisy) shredder and place that shredded stuff in spots of my gardens,

…pathways,

…and compost bin.

As for the last of the leaves, especially the larger of the Sycamore beasties, I rake them up along with other garden detritus for yard waste pick up. No worries about garden “waste” being buried in a municipal landfill, the ex-garden stuff will be combined with treated sewage sludge and sold as a soil amendment.

My American Sycamore is nearly barren of foliage now. Leaves have blown away, are blanketing gardens and pathways, or are mingling with other rotting material in the compost. Abscission is when the cells connecting the leaf petiole to the stem are sufficiently weakened and the leaf breaks from the branch. This process naturally occurs over the course of the growing season and when the cells are done-for,

…so are the leaves on the tree. Though most are down, some of my Sycamore leaves hang tough.

I expect the hangers-on to drop soon–today, tomorrow, this week–soon. Then all that will be left will be those dangly, decorative seed balls. Shall we count them?

Perhaps that’s better left until next month.

Many thanks to Pat at The Squirrelbasket for hosting Tree Following. Please pop over to her blog and learn what her tree and many others are up to for January’s Tree Following.

Wildlife Wednesday, January 2016: All About Birds

Posted on January 5, 2016 by Tina

Welcome to a new year, with new beginnings, and new wildlife to observe and learn about.

How exciting!

In my gardens, this past month’s wildlife happenings have been all about the birds.

Yes, I know that’s not a bird. Nor are these.

But this handsome devil is most definitely a bird!

There are a number of native Blue Jay birds, Cyanocitta cristata, who fly through my gardens, stopping on a regular basis to nosh,

…and preen.

Beautiful birds, Blue Jay males and females are difficult to tell apart. Their feathers have the pigment melanin, which is brown, but the blue that we see and admire happens because of scattered light through specialized cells along the feathers.

Lots of folks don’t like Blue Jays because they are assertive and noisy, but I’m quite fond of them; their cheeky personalities and gorgeous good looks always cheer me. I miss the flash of blue when I haven’t seen one swoop through the garden in a day or two, though their not being part of the landscape is rare. Blue Jays are intelligent birds with complicated family structures and there’s still much that ornithologists don’t quite understand about their family habits and migration patterns.

Occupying a different spot of the color wheel is this lovely girl,

…and her male counterpart.

Northern Cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis, birds are common throughout North America and adapt well to the backyard wildlife habitat. There are two nesting pairs in my part of the neighborhood. They nest nearby and visit my gardens and feeders daily. During summer, I’m likely to see dad training up his youngins’ on the best places to eat in the neighborhood and how to avoid the neighborhood cats.

Last month, I attempted photos of the Black-crested Titmouse(s), Baeolophus atricristatus, who frequent my garden spaces. Their charming chirps allure, but their quick movements thwart photographic efforts–mine anyway. Luckier this month, I captured some photos of some of these darling birds. Resting between visits to a feeder,

…and simply resting and looking adorable.

This one refused to turn around, smile and say “seeds!” for the camera.

The birds I’m most excited about recently observing in my gardens are a couple of Yellow-rumped Warblers, Setophaga coronata. This one is a male.

Likely as not, I’ve seen this bird species before, because it’s a common winter Texan. As I’ve learned about birds, I’m becoming aware that not all drab little birds are just more sparrows-of-some-sort. I’m learning to discern their color patterns, size and beak differentiations, and vocalizations. The bird-learning curve is a steep one, to be sure.

One must observe closely and (ahem) read a bit about birds to decipher the often subtle dissimilarities between the many species of warblers, finches, and sparrows.

Most of the little “brown” birds sport colorful plumage here and there,

…including on their bums. Can you see the yellow rump in the above photo?

I took a lots of photos before I finally got that yellow in action. There are at least two Yellow-rumps visiting my gardens regularly. This male I see most often,

…and a female, “myrtle” form.

As it turns out, there are multiple sub-species related to this particular warbler and currently, I’m not nearly enough of a birder to adequately understand, much less explain, variations. For the time being, I’m content to observe these shy little birds, all yellow rumped and sweet peeps, as they flit about my garden this winter.

While I secured a couple of decent butt shots of the female, I’m still working on a photo capture of the male’s cute yellow posterior. Heretofore, he’s been too busy showing how pretty he is in other poses.

A Red-bellied Woodpecker, Melanerpes carolinus, is another daily visitor to my feeders and up and down the oak trees.

I love it when he is feeding at the suet and a Blue Jay flies toward and in no uncertain terms, the woodpecker lets the Blue Jay know that it’s NOT HIS TURN!

There’s plenty where that came from, so wait until Red-belly is finished, Mr. Jay.

At this feeder though, the Red-bellied Woodpecker doesn’t mind sharing the food bar with a House Sparrow, Passer domesticus.

House Finches, Haemorhous mexicanus, sit in the trees, on the ground, and at the feeders. I love these chatty birds and I especially appreciate that they sit still, munching away contentedly for long enough to get good captures. Usually, couples feed together, but at this particular moment, these two took turns–first him,

…then her.

In November I signed up to participate in Project FeederWatch, a yearly, months-long look at bird population trends organized by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Mostly I did this because I felt the draw to participate in research on the status of North American birds, including migration and population trends. Also, I like the idea of being a citizen scientist.

Snort.

Despite that trumped-up term, the information gleaned by the 200,000 participating volunteers throughout North America, is vital for research on how bird populations are trending up or down and, over time, whether native birds are declining, which, unfortunately, the project has documented. Cornell Lab of Ornithology is all about the science of birds and through education, the conservation of our beloved and beleaguered native birds. Cornell encourages concerned citizens to participate in this necessary research.

There are some rules and the counting method is specific and precise, though not difficult to understand or implement, even for novice bird watchers. Project FeederWatch spans November through April, book-ending the autumn and spring migration seasons, as well as the stable wintering population of your particular site. Ideally, observance is weekly, though there’s no penalty for skipping your count from time-to-time. Cornell ornithologists are happy to get what information they can, when they can, to better understand how North American birds are faring. Volunteers choose the same two consecutive days each week to observe and record what and how many birds are in the chosen area and for what length of time the area is observed. Whether for one hour or many–it’s up to the volunteer–weather conditions are noted, and Cornell asks that particular rules of counting be followed to ensure no multiple counts of birds. The process is well-tuned and the fine folks at Cornell Lab have done their utmost to make the activity easy to use and educational. Data is either mailed in hard copy form or entered directly into a user-friendly site; that’s my preferred method. Cornell requests an $18 participation donation for the starter kit, but I think it’s well-worth that small amount to be part of a long-term scientific study and, like most scientific and educational organizations, Cornell Lab of Ornithology can use all the moolah they can get.

It’s not too late to participate for this season; check out Project FeederWatch for more information.

Any excuse to watch the backyard birdies!

Oh dear. I’m becoming one of them. Yeah, that’s right, my binoculars are on the shelf by the back door, ready and waiting. Ready and waiting for that little female Downy Woodpecker who’s too quick in the oak trees for me to get much of a look, much less a decent photograph.

Oh well, there’s always preparation and photographs for next month’s Wildlife Wednesday!

Did wildlife visit your garden this past month? Please post for January Wildlife Wednesday–share the rare or mundane, funny or fascinating, beneficial or harmful critters you encounter. When you comment on my post, please remember to leave a link to your Wildlife Wednesday post so readers can enjoy a variety of garden wildlife observations.

Happy wildlife gardening!

Tree Following in December: Getting to know the Sycamore

Posted on December 7, 2015 by Tina

Standing strong and upright, my tree to study for the remainder of 2015 and most of 2016 is the American Sycamore, Plantanus occidentalis.

Also known by the names Eastern Sycamore, American Plane Tree, Plane Tree, Buttonwood, and Buttonball Tree, I’m sure there are other namesakes, but I like the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Plant Database as a main reference when profiling native-to-North America plants and those are the names listed in the database on American Sycamore and I’ll stick with that list. Who am I to argue with the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center??

I call my Sycamore Shed, which rhymes with Fred, but isn’t. As this post and the year with Shed progresses, you’ll understand why Shed is a good name for this tree.

A member of the Plantanaceae family, the Sycamore is deciduous and grows quite tall, upwards to 100 feet. I estimate that my Sycamore is about 55-60 feet tall. I might be off a few feet, because height estimation isn’t my best thing, but I’m in the ball park. It dwarfs my one-story 70’s urban home.

As a general rule, the Sycamore is considered a wetland plant and prefers more, rather than less, water. In nature you’d find this tree along stream and river banks, as well as in floodplains. So why is it planted at my house in arid Austin, Texas? Well, it is a native to this region, though we’re at its southwestern edge, and this region busts and booms with drought and flood. Though we are tending toward a drier climate in the last couple of decades, Sycamore trees are still commonly planted and mature specimens thrive. I wouldn’t choose to plant a Sycamore if I was in the market for a tree because it does prefer a wetter foot, but my tree was already established when we bought our home and I wouldn’t remove a healthy tree. It’s been a good tree for my garden: it provides shade in summer and in winter, reasons for me to complain when leaf clean-up commences. Additionally, it’s a great resting spot for birds,

…like this White-winged Dove.

What has it done this past month? It dropped some limbs, (remember the Shed moniker??), after strong winds from a cold front.

Actually, that last photo is of a limb that bludgeoned to the ground early in the summer and that I haven’t pruned and placed for the nice yard waste folks to remove. I like to keep some limbs around in my garden for the wood-nesting bees (and anything else that digs wood) and that large limb isn’t in the way, so I’ve left it alone. I frequently find very small limbs on the ground under this tree; here is one, with long-dead leaves attached, that has broken and is caught in the crook of larger branches, but has yet to fall.

Eventually, I’m sure that mess will end up on the ground for me to place in my yard waste bin.

After the bluster of wind with our first cold front, I found this along my front raised bed, which Shed overlooks and…sheds on.

These are the individual seed remains of some of the seed balls that are a signature feature of the American Sycamore.

It’s a little odd that some seed balls disseminated now, as it’s usually in spring that the Sycamore seed balls explode and spread their seedy selves, but it was a blustery wind.

Most of the seed balls dangle in the tree and haven’t yet busted apart and floated to terra firma –but they will. Eventually.

The foliage of my tree is just beginning its autumn color morph, which can be quite attractive, especially when viewing the total tree, as opposed to individual leaves.

American Sycamore’s leaves are large and thick–bright green in spring, summer, and early fall, turning a golden-yellow before they drop. They also can suffer some insect, disease, and heat problems depending upon the seasonal weather issues. Because of our heavy flooding in May and June, I think there was some damage to the foliage from either insects and a possible bout of Sycamore anthracnose, which is a troublesome, though not fatal, fungal disease of Sycamores. The current condition of many leaves, with some brown patches,

…and colored mottling,

…give me reason to think that during our very wet spring, the tree was under some assault and stress, though I must admit that I wasn’t paying much attention to the Sycamore at that time.

Ahem.

I rather like the splash of red on the leaves, but I can’t tell you if the coloration is normal.

Perhaps in a year’s time, when I’ve followed, watched, and learned, I can speak more knowledgeably about this tree.

Ahem.

The American Sycamore is a hardy tree, foliage quirks notwithstanding, and even when anthracnose is pervasive and a tree defoliates, the tree flushes out with new growth and continues its Sycamore leaf thing for the duration of the growing season.

Sycamore bark is beautiful,

…and the tree’s height makes a definitive statement in my garden.

It’s a tough survivor, which is one of the reasons I’m choosing to follow it and learn more about Shed, the American Sycamore. Many thanks to Pat at The Squirrelbasket for hosting Tree Following. Please pop over to her blog and learn what her tree and many others are up to for the December’s Tree Following.