Austin is home to many (some say too many!) Eastern Fox Squirrels, Sciurus niger. These natives are both charming and annoying, adding comedic energy to the garden; there’s never a dull moment with these fuzzy-tailed characters. While some (occasionally including yours truly) find these cute critters irritating, squirrels play an important role in the dissemination of native plants by their consumption of seeds and disposal afterwards. In short, squirrels plant a lot of trees.
Recently, I looked out my kitchen window and saw a Rock Squirrel, Otospermophilus variegatus, nosing around in the garden, which was quite a surprise. I know Rock Squirrels are native in parts of Texas, but I’ve never seen one in my garden or anywhere else in Austin.
Austin (Travis County) lies at the eastern edge of these squirrels’ range; they’re more common in the Hill Country areas. Apparently, Rock Squirrels here in Central Texas tend to be brownish in coloring, though those further west are black to grey. This fella is definitely a westerner and I wonder if he’s a sub-species, Otospermophilus v. buckleyi. He’s quite a handsome fella, too–look at that fluffy tail! He’s also a little bigger than my pet-like Fox Squirrels.
True to what I read about Rock Squirrels, he helped himself to some greens, in this case, the leaves, stems (and seeds?) of a Yellow Columbine. Rocky also likes to munch on other seeds and foliage, as well as insects.
After his snack, a nice, cool drink of water finished his meal.
I moved on to other adventures that day and never saw Rocky again. I hope he returns; it would be interesting, maybe fun, and no doubt exasperating to host two squirrel species in the garden.
I suppose I should be careful what I wish for, after all, they are squirrels!
I’m recently returned from a week’s reprieve out of the Texas heat, having visited the Land of Enchantment–New Mexico. I’ve been to New Mexico a number of times now: sometimes it’s a museum and cultural events vacation, sometimes it’s a hiking vacation. This trip was in the latter category: a hiking-with-great-meals-afterward vacation. We visited Albuquerque, then traveled, with a break for hiking, through the Sandia Mountains, ending in Santa Fe.
Most hikes were on trails of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain range, all a short drive from Santa Fe. Each hike was unique in what it offered in flora and fauna diversity, as we climbed up and down rocky, well laid-out trails. It took a few days to acclimate to the higher elevation and thinner, dryer air, but we didn’t stop at the top of an incline and huff-n-puff too much. The views were striking, the experience rewarding.
I like to think of these next few photos as my Retrospective on Deceased Trees.
The dead and long-downed tree continues to provide life and living space for insects. I wonder if these holes are from a native bee of this area? Or perhaps it was a woodpecker or sapsucker who drilled with their remarkable beaks?
Spidery limbs act as a buffer between and mountain, and human development (Santa Fe) below.
The view from a step back…
Facing away from human settlement, rugged plants–native grasses, yucca and cacti, wildflowers–fill the landscape. The wildflowers were abundant this year due to a normal winter snowfall and spring/early summer rains. Last year’s wildflower production was significantly less impressive and when we visited last May, we hiked only once, then the trails were closed due to fire and wind hazards.
Birdsong was prevalent during each hike, some areas in symphony more than others. I was pleased to identify (thanks Merlin app!) many birds that I’ve only seen in photos. I was also delighted to experience my winter visitors who share my gardens in Texas from November through April (Orange-crowned and Yellow-rumped Warblers, and Ruby-crowned Kinglets), in their breeding grounds in the New Mexico mountains. Hearing their mating and territorial songs was a first for me since I’ve begun learning about birds. During their winter respite in my gardens, these birds use minimal vocalizations.
I heard, more than saw, many birds, and very few were easily photographed. An exception included this male American Robin,Turdus migratorius. He was a cooperative subject.
I suspect a nest was nearby, as two adult birds made themselves known to us by swooping, then resting and watching, as we walked through their space.
Toward the end of another hike, we were tired, a little dehydrated, and ready to return to our comfy digs, but stopped to admire this male Black-chinned Hummingbird, Archilochus alexandri. As we stood just below, he’d buzzed upwards from his chosen limb, flutter, then settled on the same, or nearby limb, preening, posing, and probably keeping a keen eye on his territory.
A new bird for me (‘lifer’ in birder-talk) was this cute Mountain Chickadee, Poecile gambeli.
He zipped around foliage of trees and shrubs, nibbling on insects and maybe some seeds, foraging quite close to where I stood, quiet and still, trying to focus the camera. He’s larger than my own tiny Carolina Chickadees here at home.
I saw woodpeckers (that flew too fast to identify) and shy Northern Flickers, who took flight as we came up the trail. This Red-naped Sapsucker, Sphyrapicus nuchalis, must have bathed in the creek which accompanied us on one hike, because he fluffed and preened, ignoring the human with the third eye, excited to see him post-bath.
As well as many birds, there were also lots of reptiles, skittering across the trail ahead of our footsteps and scaling up rocks and trees. It’s been years since I’ve seen a Texas Horned Lizard, Phrynosoma cornutum; I grew up calling these charmers Horny Toads, but their range also includes New Mexico. I remember them fondly from my childhood–they were fun to observe as they’re so ugly they’re cute. I didn’t see any Texas Horned Lizards on this trip, but we saw a couple of Greater Short-Horned Lizards, Phrynosoma hernandesi, who are just as darling as Texas Horned Lizards. Sadly, both species have declined, due to pesticide use, loss of habitat, and the pet trade.
Another common and fleet-footed critter that we saw along the trails was the Desert Grassland Whiptail Lizard, Aspidoscelis uniparens. This was the longest of the lizards we saw; they didn’t immediately skedaddle away from us. This one seemed as interested in us as we were in him. Actually, it’s a ‘her’ as this lizard is an all-female species of reptile. These lizards reproduce by parthenogenesis, so no dudes necessary.
The wildflowers were lovely and varied. Individual dabs of color dotted the landscape and in open areas, devoid of shade from large trees, bigger colonies like this group of sunny Common Toadflax, Linaria vulgaris, blanketed with color and form.
Pollinators were busy; native bees, skippers, larger butterflies, flies, and moths were everywhere flowers were found. This Bull Thistle, Cirsium vulgare, hosts a leafcutter bee, busily gathering pollen.
Beardlip penstemon, Penstemon barbatus, was a startling pop of red decorating many of the trails we traveled.
The hikes were strenuous and glorious. We enjoyed a variety of landscapes and diversity of life in observing water and running streams,
With an appreciative nod to the great Gordon Lightfoot, the garden is a Summertime Dream. Yes, there’s twittering in the trees, but there’s also plenty of buzzing and fluttering in and around the blooms. Currently, some of the premier buzzy/fluttery magnets are the prolific American Basket-flower, Centaurea americana.
Whether at the beginning of the bloom cycle,
…or toward the end,
…these pink-to-lavender beauties host a myriad of pollinators–day in and day out. Big or small, bee or butterfly (or hummingbird),
…active pollinators fill the air space of the garden, alighting on many blooms, especially nosing in on these fringed flowers.
This is the third year I’ve grown this wildflower. Last year, each individual stalk was tall, but in the drought, not nearly as tall as this year’s crop of baskets. Plenty of rain in April and May encouraged Jack-in-the-Beanstalk growth of the basket flowers and I was remiss in pruning the reach-for-the-stars flower stalks.
I managed to prune this bunch below and I’m happy with their height and bushy character.
Next year (next year, I always say next year!), I’m removing 95% of the seedlings (this year, it was a mere 85%) and pruning 100% of those that remain. The tall growth is fascinating to observe, but these plants simply get too, too tall for this garden. I cut down five or six of the tallest because they tipped over in heavy rain and wind.
I’m fond of these flowers and welcome them as annual visitors. The color, form, and size of the blooms are glorious, but their most important contribution is that they provide so much to so many: pollinators partake of the luscious blooms and at the end of that cycle, songbirds snarf the seeds.
This next week, June 19-25, is National Pollinator Week celebrating all things about pollinators. Check out the Pollinator Partnership for information on how you can help heal your part of the world by partnering with pollinators. Even a small garden of native plants and trees that provide food and protection for larvae and nectar and pollen for adults will benefit pollinators and the wider ecosystem.
Additionally, it will add beauty and joy to your everyday life.
Small Minor bee and Green Sweat bee on American Basket-flower
My Gardener Says... 