Petals Half Full

The glass is half full or the glass is half empty each convey a certain outlook on life, one which welcomes optimism, the other offering a shrug towards pessimism. Those who garden, who work and play in the natural world, live in the present moment while observing, planning, planting, weeding, pruning, and sometimes harvesting. But gardeners also keep their eyes and hearts firmly fixed on the future–from the short-term seasonal process of growing vegetables to the very long-term nurturing of large shade trees, well aware that they will never see the trees in maturity.

This Red Spider Lily, Lycoris radiata, is recently emerged from its dormant, bulb state, awakened by the rains of late summer. So far, only one of the umbel flowers has opened; it will take a few more days for the other six umbels to follow, but follow they will, the flower reaching full bloom.

I don’t recall when I dug the hole and sunk the bulb into the ground, but I know that I did so with the understanding that it would take a year or more before the bulb created any sort of bloom and I was willing to wait for that future event. I also knew that the chances were good that the bulb and its seasonal flowering would have a future each August or September: fleshy scape emerging from the soil, stunning flowers dotting the garden scarlet, evergreen, grassy foliage gracing winter’s view. While this spider lily isn’t quite half full, it’s on its way to glorious blooming.

With a garden, all that is required is to exercise patience and look to the 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.

A Royal Visit

Migration season has arrived and the first bird that I’ve identified as a non-resident and stranger to these parts is this handsome Eastern Kingbird, Tyrannus tyrannus. According to Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s map, my area here in Austin, Texas is on the edge of its breeding range, but I’ve never seen an Eastern Kingbird before, though Western Kingbirds are fairly common.

This visitor perched in the Red Oak tree near my pond, fluttering occasionally over the pond itself, presumably snacking on insects. A flycatcher, Eastern Kingbirds eat insects, hunting them on the wing. They also enjoy small reptiles and fruit, especially in their wintering grounds in South America.

King then spent time in the smaller Roughleaf Dogwood tree, Cornus drummondii, which is full of ripe berries for the munching. I didn’t see the bird eat any fruit, but Kingbirds routinely nosh on fall and winter fruits, and that is exactly why I planted a couple of these hardy and attractive small trees: spring flowers for the pollinators, fruits in late summer/fall for the birds.

Cornell’s Kingbird information mentions a red crest that these territorial and aggressive birds flash as a challenge to a predator. This one didn’t exhibit any red that I saw, though it clearly has a defined crest. I’m guessing this is a female or juvenile male bird. As adorable as it looks, these birds are bullies! They have no problem going after bigger birds like hawks and crows, and are aggressive with other birds and small mammals. Apparently, this bird is appropriately named in both its common name (Kingbird) and its scientific name (Tyrannus tyrannus). The good folks at Cornell remind us that the term Tyrannus means “tyrant, despot, or king.”

The Hub and I are planning a wildlife/birding trip to Costa Rica in the not-too-distant future and in a phone call with the guide that we’ve hired for the trip, I mentioned that an Eastern Kingbird had visited my garden. He commented that Kingbirds were “good-looking birds” (I agree!) and mentioned that in Costa Rica, they travel in in big flocks. I wonder if this bird will be in Costa Rica at the same time we visit–maybe we can exchange travel stories!

The King looks cute-n-goofy in these photos, but it was hot outside, thus the open beak.

A resident Blue Jay popped into the scene, but kept its distance from Royal Highness.

Kingbird perched in the Dogwood, above the lowly Jay, no doubt lording over its temporary territory. The Blue Jay stayed near the bog area of the pond, just hanging out, being a Jay.

Bird migratory season has arrived. I don’t see either the variety or numbers of birds in fall migration as during spring migration, but it’s time to keep a keen eye on the pond and gardens for more than the usual suspects. It’s time to observe and appreciate their beauty and contributions to diverse ecosystems. My garden will serve as a respite for shelter, food, and water for these remarkable creatures during their long, arduous travels.