The Camera Doesn’t Lie

Posted on April 9, 2016 by Tina

The camera may not lie, but it doesn’t work, either–more about that later. Back in December, we installed a bird camera in the nesting box for “our” Eastern Screech Owl, Megascops asio, couple.

Bee Daddy perched precariously…

Wrapping the wiring around the tree…

After The Bad Squirrel Incident in April 2015, we thought it wise to keep a third eye on our Screech Owl seasonal residents. This spring, with the camera up and transmitting to our desktop and Mama in the house on a regular basis, it was a fun, if not somewhat addicting, to watch her preen and rest in her little nest box.

On Sunday, March 6, Mama laid her first egg.

Here, Mama is peering out of the box, with her wings ready for take-off early in the evening after a hard day’s egg-laying.

The second egg came on Wednesday, March 9,

…the third,

Friday, March 11

…fourth,

Sunday, March 13

…and fifth.

Wednesday, March 15

The eggs appeared on an every-other-day schedule and that is typical of how Screeches deliver. The egg photos were taken shortly after Mama left the house on each of those evenings. You can imagine how exciting the prospect is of observing and chronicling the owl family as it grows and develops. The gestation for Screech Owls is approximately 28 days, so by this post, if all are healthy, three owlets have hatched, with the other two hot on their heels–or shells.

Alas, there were some heavy winds here a couple of weeks ago and the camera went dark. Boo! We’ve re-configured and manipulated all the connections and wires, opened up the house (when Mama flew out for her brief foray into the night) to diagnose the camera’s issue(s), and eventually removed the camera itself for further inspection.

It seems that our bird camera has pooped out.

This photo was taken with Bee Daddy’s cell phone during his last scramble up the ladder and tree limbs to remove the camera permanently.

Mama landed on the branch Bee Daddy straddled, just a few feet away, to keep her two big eyes on him. Once he removed the camera and we realized it’s not repairable, we decided not to interfere with the owls further this season.

I still see Mama the old-fashioned way,

…as she peeks out for a breath of fresh air, weary, and momentarily away from those hungry beaks. Just after that series of shots, Mama yawned. I don’t know if owls yawn, but that’s what it looked like to me.

Mommy-work is hard.

Dad Owl keeps a close watch each day, all day in a neighbor’s tree which is a quick swoop away if he’s needed.

Dad Owl snoozing in the last rays of afternoon sun.

Daddy-work is hard, too.

Five growing and hungry owlets are a big responsibility. A favorite food of Screech Owls are pond toads, which there are usually plenty of in our garden, but the toads haven’t noisily appeared this year, which is odd. Toads are a ready source of “big game” food that our owls hunt directly and since they’re not yet available, I imagine the owls’ menu is consisting mostly insects and the occasional rat, mouse, or bird from wherever Dad Owl can find them. He’ll do all of the hunting until the owlets are so large that Mama can’t stay in the box and then she’ll join in the meal runs for the little ones.

The owlets will fledge in May and we’ll see (hopefully) how many of the babies have survived to that point.

Green It Is: Tree Following in April

Posted on April 7, 2016 by Tina

My American Sycamore, Platanus occidentalis, leafed out this past month. It began the month in a mostly leafless state.

The Shumard Oak (Quercus shumardii), leafed out much earlier this spring, though it's always ahead of the Sycamore.

The Sycamore, at the center-left, leafs out later than the Shumard Oak (Quercus shumardii).

It wasn’t too far into March before dots of new green appeared. I caught the beginning of the leafy action, snapped photos, then went on with my life.

This branch is the only one that is below the roof of my house and easily accessible. No, I'm not going to climb on my roof for my blog or for Tree Following.

This branch is the only one that is below the roof of my house and therefore, easily accessible. I have no plans to climb on top my roof to get photographs of leaves for this blog.

Sycamore, like most plants, is a monecious plant, which means that each tree has both female (pistillate) flowers and male (staminate) flowers. As an aside, another way that plants function reproductively is by being dioecious–which means that the individual plants are either female or male. Fewer plants are dioecious.

I knew that American Sycamores were monecious, but seeing that the tree is monecious is another thing entirely–and that’s the great thing about tree following: I notice these things because I’m paying attention. I assumed that because my tree is tall that I wouldn’t get a good photo of the male and female flowers. Additionally, I wasn’t trying to get photos of the flowers. But during in the photo-snapping session mentioned above, I caught both the male and female flowers.

The male flowers grow on newer, shorter branchlets and the female flowers grow on older branchlets.

The male flowers sport a sort nubby look along the branches, while the female flowers are fuzzier. The male flower will break and release its pollen load, usually by wind, but also, by water. If you recall from our March visit to the Sycamore, we learned about dispersal of seeds by wind, anemochory, and dispersal by water, called hydrochory. The American Sycamore does both; it’s a good survival strategy to employ a couple of methods of reproduction–it certainly keeps the options open.

Sycamore leaf production soon overtakes any flower show, though.

You can see that there are plenty of seed-balls for next year’s Sycamore seed dispersal. For now, the new ones are spring green,

…but eventually they’ll turn a toasty, autumn brown.

I’ve never seen a nest in the Sycamore, but it serves as a consistent resting spot for a variety of birds like this male Great-tailed Grackle, Quiscalus mexicanus. .

His glorious, purple-black plumage pairs well with the new leaves. Other birds like White-winged Doves, House Sparrows, Blue Jays, and Cardinals, are year-round visitors to my Sycamore. As the leaves grow larger and the foliage thickens, it will become more difficult to spot birds resting in the tree.

The foliage is now almost fully flushed out. Sycamore is usually planted as a shade tree, but also as a tree for urban areas used to thwart air pollution.

Maybe those big leaves will save us all.

This is the American Sycamore as it enters late spring heading toward the summer months.

Thanking Pat of The Squirrelbasket for graciously hosting this fun meme about trees. Check out her blog for interesting information about trees from all over the world.

Wildlife Wednesday, April 2016: Spring Things

Posted on April 6, 2016 by Tina

My garden and its inhabitants are in full swing, reveling in abundant sunshine, pleasant temperatures, and rain at the right times. I hope your garden is thriving with similar conditions, fully awake and alive not only with flowers and foliage, but the things that the flowers and foliage are intended for: birds, pollinators, amphibians and all other wildlife that requires what nature provides.

Because I think they’re mostly gone now, I’m starting the wildlife musings with some of the birds who visited my gardens and are now probably on their way northwards for the summer breeding season. I still hear Cedar Waxwings, Bombycilla cedrorum, from time-to-time and a flock swooped over me one evening last week, but I haven’t seen any in my trees for a couple of weeks. Cedar Waxwings usually perch high atop my trees, but the last time any dropped by the garden, each bird was within easy eye and camera shot.

This guy looks like he wants to make sure I get a really good look at him before he heads north.

Such a gorgeously color-coordinated bird.

With the splash of yellow on the tummy, echoed by the yellow strip at the tail’s end, plus the jaunty mask across the eyes, he’s lovely as he watches me, watching him.

And, another view of this pretty bird.

These two,

…pose agreeably, keeping one another company as I ooh and aah at their handsomeness one last time this season. I admit that I’m a little jealous of northern wildlife gardeners who enjoy these birds year-round in some places and for the whole of summer, further north.

American Goldfinches, Spinus tristus, were late arrivals to my garden this year. They were daily callers throughout February and March and their presence was a cheery gift. Their song is sweet and like Cedar Waxwings, they’re humorously chatty, congenial birds. They love to hang out at the pool, either alone,

Is the rock a bird-version of a diving board?

…or with friends,

American Goldfinches are pleased to share their bath with others, not of their ilk–like the rather confused looking House Finch, Haemorhous mexicanus.

The show with this group begins with the one on the left, with landing gear at the ready,

Feet flat…

Wings up for the landing…

Good stop!

Oops! The rock is slippery.

Ready for a nice, long cool one.

The Goldfinch on the far right, beside the rock, is attempting to take a sip, though not quite sure if he can maintain his balance. Whoopsie! Good thing those wings provide some leverage. Like the Cedar Waxwings, American Goldfinch breed much further north than Texas (into Canada). I haven’t seen the Goldfinch gang in about a week–I assume “my” group is on their way. I’ll miss them.

A Northern Mockingbird, Mimus polyglottos, serenaded me one morning.

He let me sidle up close before he flew to the neighbor’s house. Mockingbirds are the official state bird of Texas and frequently provide melodic company when I’m working in the garden.

I hadn’t seen a Yellow-rumped Warbler, Setophaga coronata, in a week or so, when I spotted this one bathing in the bog of my pond.

A bathing bird always makes me smile. Butter-butts, as Yellow-rumps are affectionately known by birders, breed in the the Pacific Northwest and in Canada during summer. Since spotting this one I’m observing 3 or 4 early most mornings, but I’m sure they’ll be heading out for migration soon enough.

Quite a few butterflies have flitted through the garden, but I never have my camera ready when they land–which they don’t do all that often. This American Lady, Vanessa virginiensis enjoyed the bounty of several individual Purple Coneflower, Echinacea purpurea. Plants in the aster family are listed as both larval and nectar sources for this species.

Other butterflies I’ve enjoyed seeing include several Queens, Danaus gilippus, and a couple of Monarchs, Danaus plexippus. The adult butterflies were too fast for me to photograph, but thankfully, caterpillars are slow. I witnessed a Monarch laying an egg and must assume this guy is the result.

I haven’t found the chrysalis, but hope it’s attached to a safe spot for its metamorphosis. I assume the parent left Mexico before the snow and ice storm hit. It’s still unclear how many Monarchs died in the storm, but suffice to say it was too many.

Poor Monarchs, they can’t seem to catch a damn break. Monarch lovers throughout the Americas cheered a few weeks ago with the news that Monarch numbers were up in the winter roosting areas and then the ice storm blasted them as they left the roosts and began migration. I sincerely hope the survivors and their descendants find plenty of milkweed and nectar plants here in Texas and northward, and that the journey to Canada and back again next autumn will be free from harm.

Fingers crossed.

The Queen larva is in ‘J’ ,

…and next month, I’ll have a photo of its gorgeous chrysalis. With good timing and luck, I’ll witness the emergence of the adult.

I wrote about some of the native bees in my garden recently, but more photos of those lovely pollinators are always in order. I’m fairly certain that the identification of his little bee is Perdita ignota—a type of Minor bee.

And this one,

The photo shows two native bees. Can you spot the other, in blurry flight?

…is a maybe(?) a Halictus tripartitus, a type of Sweat bee.

I’ve snagged some reasonable photos of the tiny and stunning metallic blue/green bees, which are probably some sort of Sweat bee. As there are apparently a couple of species of metallic Sweat bees residing in Central Texas, I won’t guess which these might be. I’ll just enjoy their beauty and appreciate their work.

Native metallic bee AND honeybee working the blooms of a Coral Honeysuckle vine.

Native bee flying in for the nectar.

Native bee resting on the stamens of a Coral Honeysuckle bloom.

The site that I utilize when researching native bees in my garden is the The Jha Lab, which is the research website for The University of Texas Austin’s Section of Integrative Biology. The photos on the site are taken from various area wildlife preserves. What trips me up in wild bee identification is that professional photos are phenomenal–incredible close-ups of teeny, tiny bees in gorgeous detail. My photos are okay, but not of scientific quality. My photos don’t have the detail required for definitive identification, so my id’s are approximate.

These bees I can definitely identify! They’re MY honeybees. Aren’t they cute?

Honeybee on Purple coneflower.

Honeybee working sage bloom.

These belong to our remaining honeybee hive, Scar. They are the gentlest bees we’ve had the privilege of “keeping.” Scar, by the way, is doing just fine–full of busy, working bees and a queen who is laying eggs out the wazoo. I don’t think wazoo is the technical term.

My all-time favorite native bee species is the Horsefly-like Carpenter bee, Xylocopa tabaniformis. With lovely blue peepers and snazzy abdominal racing stripes, these gals are all over my gardens, buzzing from bloom to bloom.

Carpenter bee on Coral Honeysuckle bloom.

Carpenter bee “stealing” nectar from Yellow columbine.

Go girls!

This Paper wasp, Polistes exclamans, is the first of its kind that I’ve seen this year and was resting for a moment on daylily foliage–just long enough for a photo.

Clad in autumn-like colors, paper wasps are beautiful insects.

I like these insects, though many people do not. Wasps of most sorts are good pollinators and I’ve never experienced any aggression from this species or others. Wasps are aggressive if nests are disturbed–and who among us isn’t aggressive (or at least annoyed) when someone is disturbing our homes?

And Wildlife Wednesday wouldn’t be the same without a Green Anole lizard, Anolis carolinensis, saying a cheery Hi!.

His look suggests that perhaps it’s more of a wary Go away! .

Did wildlife visit your garden this past month? Please post for April 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.