Spring Critters: Wildlife Wednesday, April 2018

For those in the Northern Hemisphere, spring has sprung and we’re savoring the warming, blooming results.  For those in the southern part of our little Earth, the growing season is winding down.  But for all who pay attention, wildlife is around:  living, breeding, hatching, or, fledging and becoming independent, and preparing for winter.  Welcome to Wildlife Wednesday, celebrated on the first Wednesday of each month.  We gardeners love our blooms-n-foliage, but it’s the critters who need and rely on the blooms-n-foliage that  bring life to the garden. Viva wildlife!

At the end of February, I spotted the first of the Blue orchard beesOsmia lignaria, who’d burst out from their bee nurseries after pupating for a full year.  These deep blue, metallic bees were raring to go: ready to pollinate, mate and create new incubators for their bee babies.

Empty pupa shell. It housed the Blue Orchard bee for a full year.

Love among the blue bees!

As I write, the few adults left are adding their final touches on the eggs’ nests.  Their incubating progeny is tucked-in and safe for the coming year.

Caught in the act! One of the last adult Blue Orchards packing her nest.

There were so many bees looking for nurseries this year, that I scavenged more blocks of drilled wood and some extra cut bamboo to fill the housing needs.

No vacancy!

There are empty holes in this hotel, but we need to make more bee nurseries for the later season, different  bees.

I’ve placed an order with Bee Daddy for more holey wood and cut bamboo for next years’ bee babies.  So long Blue orchard bees–and thanks for your work in my garden.

 

Winter avian residents are eating, drinking, bathing, and squabbling in the garden.  That said, spring migration is imminent and I’ll soon say a bittersweet farewell to the feathered winter Texans that who share my garden.  The Ruby-crowned kingletRegulus calendula, was a shyer fella than either of last years’ pair, but I managed glimpses of his cuteness.

I saw more American goldfinchesSpinus tristis, than I usually do in winter, though only captured a few shots of these yellow, black, and white beauties.

A handsome male in his not-quite-breeding plumage.

I usually see greater numbers of Lesser goldfinchesSpinus psaltria, throughout the year, but this winter, they’ve been scarce.  Still, there were a few.

It’s a date!

Interestingly, my sister-in-law, who lives in west Austin (we’re in central Austin), experienced just the opposite:  plenty of Lessers, few Americans.  Wildlife have their preferred hangouts–much like people–critters appear in greater or fewer numbers, depending upon what’s available in food sources and cover–and whatever unknown quality they’re looking for at a particular time.

 

A favorite bird showed up this past month!  Cedar waxwingBombycilla cedrorum,  flock together on the wing and in the trees.  These gregarious birds typically perch too high (and invariably, it’s too windy) to capture good shots, but I lucked out a few times.

You can see the red “wax” on the tip of the wing of the upper bird. It’s not clear what this bit of bright red is for, but may be related to attracting a mate.

Rakish mask, bright yellow flare at the tip of the tale, and a splash of red–who wouldn’t find these birds attractive?

It’s rare to find them alone; they enjoy one another’s company and sometimes, the company of others.

Cedar waxwing chatting up a female House Finch.  I love the look on the finch’s face.  Whahh???

I’m still hearing them as the flock from tree top to tree top.  They’ll be around for a while, but they breed far north of here and they’ll migrate soon enough.

She’s gorgeous–and knows it!

 

This is the third year that at least one Lincoln’s  Sparrow,  Melospiza lincolnii,  has visited in late winter/early spring.

The coloring is subtle, but lovely.

A view from behind; it’s a beautiful pattern in those feathers.

An elegant looking little bird, Lincoln’s Sparrows hop jauntily through the garden in search of seeds and flutter and flap in the bog of the pond.  There have been at least three of them at various times, though I certainly can’t tell one from another.

Named for a traveling companion of John James Audubon (yes, THAT Audubon), Mr. Thomas Lincoln, these charmers are in my garden briefly before they migrate.   I sure enjoy watching them hippity-hop for seeds and preen-n-shake after baths.

 

Another winter Texan whose appearance I anticipate is that of the Yellow-rumped warbler, Setophaga coronata.  Butter-butts (as Yellow-rumps are affectionately known) have been no-shows in my garden until recently; only in the last couple of weeks did one (actually, three) appear.  I’m happy to welcome them–better late than never!

Not a great photo, but you can see his yellow rump and isn’t that what it’s all about??

Look how cute I am!!

 

I’ve put the commercial suet away, as it’s too warm now, but the one Orange-crowned warbler, Oreothlypis celata, who enjoys the suet, still shows up to bathe.

The streaking on the breast is pretty. I wish I could capture the orange crown. Maybe next year…

He’ll be leaving soon too. Sniff.

As for the year-rounders, they’re always welcome.   A rare set of photos of the female Red-bellied woodpecker,  Melanerpes carolinus, shows her beauty.

The male’s head is completely red;  it has no gap in the color,  like this female.

Red-bellies are shy birds;  I see the male daily; the female is a rarer visitor, but both love  suet.  Since removing the suet, they partake of the black-oiled sunflower seeds.  I don’ t know where they nest, but hope to see their offspring later in the year.

 

Blue JaysCyanocitta cristata, are always photogenic–and chatty.

Are you talking about me?

‘Nuff said!

This winter was different from the last few winters: fewer Starlings (yay!), but also, fewer Yellow-rumped and Orange-crowned warblers (boo!).   There were more American goldfinches and fewer of the Lessers.  Hawks wouldn’t stay out of the garden, but the Eastern Screech owls, who’ve been nightly companions for years, have vacated the neighborhood.  Things are changing and as migration season kicks in, I hope to observe unusual birds as the come to rest, feed, and bathe on the path to their breeding grounds.

 

Finally, a non-bird.

Yup, these cuties are back and rumbling around!  The unofficial mascot of Wildlife Wednesday–Green AnoleAnolis carolinensis, hasn’t lost his wariness of this gardener.  He has nothing to fear from me, I adore these charmers.

As an aside, I was asked by the nice folks at Gardening Know How to write as a guest blogger and wrote about our beekeeping adventures.  You can find a link to the articl here.    Thank to Gardening Know How for the opportunity to spread the word about bees–some of my favorite critters!

Whether you’re gearing up for growing, or settling down for resting, what critters kept you company this past month?  Please share your photos and stories of wild critters this past month.  Remember to leave a your link when you comment.

Happy wildlife gardening–and viva wildlife!

 

Siren

The siren beckons.

Coral honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens)

Entranced, I follow.  I won’t be bashed onto rocks, though I’ll admit to occasionally tripping on a few as I meander through spring song.

The diversity is wide, the color wheel complete.

Passalong iris–unknown variety

 

Some are related to one another.

Wild red columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

Yellow columbine–a hybrid developed in my garden, Yellow columbine mixed with Wild red columbine

 

Many have thrived in this region for millenia.

Hill country penstemon (Penstemon triflorus)

Others hail from far away.

European poppy. A German friend gave me seeds 20-plus years ago and they bloom each spring.

 

Most are brief bloomers, in the garden for only a short time.

Golden groundsel (Packera obovata)

Their seeds will linger for another season, either in my garden or elsewhere.  The seeds await the right moment, the right conditions, to create.

 

Bloom spikes may last into summer, morphing to seed delivery systems, delivering  DNA packages to the soil.  Foliage lasts beyond.

Cedar sage (Salvia roemeriana)   A metallic bee works  one of the blooms.

Scalloped, evergreen foliage is a year-round gift.

 

Colors are sunshine bright,

Damianita (Chrysactinia mexicana) flanked by the foliage rays of Softleaf yucca (left) and Red yucca (right).

…or rich and dark.

Martha Gonzales rose planted with Giant spiderwort (Tradescantia gigantea)

 

All nourish some living thing,

Pipevine swallowtail butterfly (Battus philenor) nectaring at Spiderwort

…including my gardening soul.

Not Such a Dummy After All


In my recent post, Dummy, I wrote about an intrepid pair of Black-crested TitmouseBaeolophus atricristatus, building a nest in a hanging bird house that Bee/Bird Daddy built some time ago.  It was the first avian interest shown in this house, and I was tickled that Titmice chose this bit of bird real estate.  Some of the cutest birds around, Black-crested Titmice are frequent visitors to my birdbaths and black-oiled sunflower feeders, and are year-round resident songbirds in Central Texas.  Over the course a few days, I enjoyed observing their nesting preparations, as I’ve never been privileged to see those activities up-close.

Throughout nest-building project, I noticed House SparrowsPasser domesticus,    harassing the Titmice at every turn. House Sparrows are invasive birds, ubiquitous in urban areas.  I’ve mostly tolerated them, not necessarily considering them particularly destructive, and enjoying their chatter–and there’s plenty to be had of that!  They are piggy at the feeders, but they never appeared to displace other birds.  I’ve read that they bully and even kill native songbirds, but never witnessed those heinous acts.  But since the Titmice began prepping the house for their own offspring, I’ve observed intimately the House Sparrows’  nasty behavior toward another bird species. While no direct songbird murder occurred (that I saw), the Sparrows certainly impeded the Titmice family planning.

When at home, I’d chase the Sparrows off–yelling at them as I bolted out the front door.  (My neighbors are accustomed to my, er, eccentricities in that way).  While the Titmice continued bringing bits of nesting material to the house, singing and calling at one another as they worked, the House Sparrows proved persistent oppressors.

My concern about the Sparrow activities increased as I observed their determination to tyrannize the Titmice.  I researched about various methods of discouraging them from successfully driving off native songbirds, especially during nesting season.  One of the articles discussed affixing monofilament or fishing line around the bird house, because House Sparrows are inexplicably spooked by the fishing line, though it apparently doesn’t stop native birds from building.  I also removed the rain chain, hanging directly in front of the house, so that the Sparrows couldn’t perch on it as they were bullying the titmice.

My focus was to photograph the Titmice, but the House Sparrows would perch on the rain chain and the house perch.

Alas, all measures were too little, too late, and too lame.  I realized last weekend that the Titmice were no longer working at the house.  As well, the Sparrows were scarce–they’d intimidated the titmice successfully and after rendering their competition moot, they moved on.

After a few days of quiet at the bird house, I wanted to see exactly what the Titmice had used to build their nest, so opened up the bird house and discovered that they’d made far more progress than I’d realized.

Pretty, speckled eggs. Each egg was about one-half inch in diameter.

Sniff.  Three lonesome little eggs that will never become charming Titmice chicks. True to the literature on Titmice nesting, the nest was full of animal fur, soft pollen, and bits of cut grass.

Lots of fur in this nest. I recognized the coloring common to Virginia opossums.

I’ve learned some things with this experience.  Next spring, early in the season, I’ll remove the rain chain and will also re-string the fishing line around the nest box.  I’m also planning to saw off the house perch.  It’ll limit the Titmice from landing, but as I observed  the Titmice entering the house, they mostly flew directly to the entrance, without a perch-stop.  However, the House Sparrows perched on the perch, blocking the Titmice from entering the house.

I hear Titmice song everyday–though not in my garden–especially in early morning and near sundown,  so I hope they found a safer spot to raise their babies.  There are significantly more House Sparrows than Black-crested Titmice in my neighborhood and I imagine there’s fierce competition for nesting spots.

I’m sure I’ll see Titmice, but I’ll have to wait until next year for any possibility of hosting a family of these darlings.

A companionable House Finch (Haemorhous mexicanus) shares with a Black-crested Titmouse.