Foeniculum Funeral

Posted on November 19, 2015 by Tina

My Fabulous Foeniculum is no more.

In June 2014, I wrote this post about a single Fennel plant, Foeniculum vulgare, which was a couple of years old at that time. In addition to its cloud-like, airy beauty in the garden,

…it was the nursery and all-you-can-eat cafe for scores of Black Swallowtail butterfly caterpillars.

This particular fennel plant was apparently very happy situated in this mostly morning sun spot.

It not only withstood at least two full Central Texas summers and most of a third, but grew quite tall at points during its life.

I named it Mega-Fennel. This past summer Mega-Fennel started off just fine: lush and full of life and ready for the summer onslaught of butterfly larvae. But during July and August I began noticing fennel foliage die-off.

I hoped, rather than believed, that if I pruned the dead and dying foliage, that somehow, miraculously, Mega-fennel would rally and survive.

Alas, it did not rally. In September, Mega-Fennel was good and dead. I dug it up and unceremoniously tossed the long-lived and butterfly life-giving fennel into my compost bin.

I held no funeral for the fab Foeniculum.

Once the temperatures cooled, local nurseries began carrying fennel again–they suspend selling the cool-season herb during our long summers–I purchased several. I’ve replaced Mega-Fennel,

… from bronze to green, and have added others to my garden. I prefer bronze fennel;

I think it’s hardier than the more weak-stemmed green fennel. Butterflies like both and lay their eggs equally on fennel, regardless of slight differences in foliage hue.

Only a few of the other fennel that I’ve grown have lasted more than one season and none as long as Mega-Fennel. I’ve planted some fennel in full sun and they thrive in the cool months of October-May, but once the calendar flips over to June and summer heat settles in, full-sun fennel suffers under the death rays of the Texas sun. I think Mega-Fennel’s grand success was due to its morning sun position. Going forward, fennel planted in my garden will be placed in dappled light or morning sun.

I plant fennel to attract and feed butterflies, specifically the larval form of the Black Swallowtail, Papilio polyxenes. If you look at information about this gorgeous butterfly of the Americas, there’s no specific mention of fennel as a host plant. Most insects prefer “host” plants that their larval forms feed on and usually, host plants and their insects evolved together. Native plants are intrinsic to the insects of a given region–they are partners in the wider food chain. Historically, the Black Swallowtail larvae wouldn’t have dined on fennel because it’s not a native plant to North America, but instead, an introduced Mediterranean herb. The Black Swallowtail larvae feed on plants from the Apiaceae, or Carrot Family. According to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center’s plant database, there are about 100 native North American plants in the Apiaceae family and just over half of those grow here in Texas. Some of these are perennials, some are annuals; most sport umbel inflorescence. A few are water plants and many look like they’d be quite delicious added to a salad. I have to assume (though I didn’t find specific information confirming this) that in unadulterated habitats, Black Swallowtails would use at least some of these plant hosts for their larvae. Considering that wild space is now at a minimum and disappearing rapidly, what’s a Black Swallowtail to do?

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen native Texas Apiaceae plants for sale, though I’ll bet seeds are available at Wildseed Farms or Native American Seeds. Because the native Apiaceae plants are not the commercially appealing landscape plants common in the retail nursery trade, the next best thing for the wildlife gardener is to plant an introduced species which is a member of the Apiaceae Family, that is regularly available for purchase, and that butterflies can adapt to. And that’s exactly what has happened–in my garden and many others.

I’d rather grow native plants, but will make-do with appropriate non-natives if necessary. As long as the butterflies are happy, eating well and laying eggs, this gardener is happy.

Other introduced host plants of the Black Swallowtail are dill, carrot, and celery. But for my garden and in hopes of hosting another Mega-Fennel, I’ll stick with fennel for my visiting swallowtails and their progeny.

A Guest Blog Post

Posted on September 23, 2015 by Tina

A while back I was kindly asked to write for gardeningknowhow.com as a guest blogger, a regular feature on the site each Wednesday. Gardening Know How chooses a variety of garden bloggers with a wide array of interests and, lucky bloggers, they let us rip-n-write about anything near and dear to each of our gardener’s hearts. If you’re a regular reader of mine, my article, The Living Garden, won’t come as a surprise. I’m at it again and about the same ole, same ole, yada, yada, yada: use native plants and water-wise principles, plant for wildlife–they need our help, get rid of water-wasting turf. If you’re a new reader to My Gardener Says, this article gives you a bit of history about why I plant what I plant.

In any case, if you’d like to take a peek at my guest post for today, check it out here.

Thanks to Shelley Pierce at Gardening Know How for the fun opportunity to spread the wildlife and native plants gardening love to a wider audience.

Bee Hunters Are Back

Posted on September 17, 2015 by Tina

Bee hunting season is open!

Grrr. I’m not happy about my honeybees ending up in this bird’s tummy,

…but she and her offspring(?) or BFF, are fun to watch as they hunt for buzzy meals and sip from the baths.

Summer Tanagers, Piranga rubra, have returned to my garden in search of honeybees for their main course and wasps and native bees à la carte, since those insects are also on the Tanager menu. I wrote about the visits from a male, female, and immature male Summer Tanager last May. That crew hung around snatching bees for a couple of weeks. I didn’t spot any Tanager action during the summer months, though they breed in this area. However, this past weekend I saw two females bee-hunting in my back garden. I imagine the two golden beauties are fueling up for their migration to Mexico and South America.

I observed as one of them flew to the landing board of my beehive Scar, plucked a bee from its hive, then rested on a branch of the overhanging Shumard Oak. She proceeded to bang the bee on the branch, quickly dispensing it down her gullet when it was sufficiently dead and stinger-less. Another time, one perched on a different branch of the same tree looking rapidly this way and that, as bees buzzed past her on their foraging way. So many bees, so little time! The bees were completely oblivious of the danger posed by the observant, seasoned, and accurate bee hunter. I’m bummed that the Tanagers eat my bee girls and would certainly be glad to offer them a peanut butter and honey sandwich instead, but I don’t think that would go over too well.

This one hopped along a pathway, looking for…I’m not sure what. Bees crawling on the ground? Maybe she was eyeballing the big, weird critter in front of her on the pathway, perched on the pink chair–the one with the black eye in front of her face.