Pretty Pollen Powerhouse Plant

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The spring garden is popping with all sorts of pollen-laden plants and pollinators are punctilious in their pollination proclivity. In particular, bees–both native and honey–are performing their tasks, adding to the pulchritude of the garden and the procreation of new plants.

Five Desert Globemallow shrubs, Sphaeralcea ambigua, that now grow in my full-sun garden, are powerhouse plants with pretty flowers; honeybees are passionate about these blooms. Four of the shrubs are pictured here, two in front, and two on either side toward the back, near the wall of the house. One shrub grows prolifically off-camera. I’m pleased as punch that I now have the perfect place to grow these peachy/sagey plants.

All five were damaged by the week-long hard freeze in January, but have rebounded with aplomb. I’m pumped about their growth and blooms.

Sun or clouds, honeybees visit the dreamsicle mallow blooms daily; they exit the blooms sprinkled with pollen, and buzz forth, from one bloom to the next. I can’t help but wonder: is it possible that honeybees become too pollen-packed to fly to their hives?

While Desert Globemallow is native to North America, it isn’t native here in Central Texas and can be a pain to procure. Mine have produced a couple of seedlings; with some good luck and careful transplanting, sharing of plants is in the plans.

In its native range of Nevada, Arizona, California, Utah and parts of Mexico, Globe Mallow tends to a longer bloom time than I’ve enjoyed here in humid Austin. These pretties’ bloom production will become pokey once summer’s heat pummels the garden. Except for occasional freeze damage during winter, the foliage is perfectly attractive year-round.

A tiny ant heads in one direction along the petal while the honeybee heads in another, finished with her work on this flower.

Prolific blooming at its finest, the Desert Globemallow flowers are preferred by pollinators and the pride of this gardener.

Dueling Owl Cams

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In January, an Eastern Screech Owl, as well as some other neighborhood wildlife, were making use of our backyard owl nest box as a critter b-n-b. Our owl (named Uptown Girl–I’m pretty sure we’ve hosted the same couple for a few years now) only stayed in the box for one day. I’d see and hear her from time to time, but realized that when she trilled, there was no answering call, and that observation, along with the fact that she didn’t stay in the box again, led me to believe that her mate (Shy Guy) had disappeared. Eastern Screech owls mate for life and co-parent their chicks.

Well, that’s a sad, sad thought: no owl family in our back garden for the year, unless Uptown Girl finds another mate or another couple moves into the territory.

Recently, an Eastern Screech has rested in the nest box during the days and last night we heard a rich, deep Screech trill–does she have a new mate? Is this an entirely new pair? Time will tell whether there’s a Screech Owl family in the making, but typically, Screeches don’t hang out in nest boxes unless they’re in the family way.

At the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Athena, the resident Great Horned Owl, has also set up her nursery. Each year, for the past 14 years, a Great Horned Owl has nested atop the main entry way to the courtyard of the garden, much to the delight of visitors and staff. The owl is always named ‘Athena’. This year, excited wildflower geeks and bird nerds can intimately observe Athena and her (so far) two eggs. The LBJWC partnered with Cornell Lab of Ornithology and have installed a camera which you can read about here, to watch the beautiful owl and her offspring. Folks (like me!) from all over the world are thrilled!

In my case, I am enjoying dueling owl cams: our little Screech paired with lovely Athena, each on different monitors all day, each day, and during the evening. I’m not obsessed, no siree!

The Cornell camera is a significantly better camera than ours–if that’s not obvious from this photo. (Maybe Cornell could offer one of their cams for our backyard?). But I can watch my own little owl and appreciate her resting time in the nest box, beak snuggling in a comforting corner, safe from annoying Blue Jays.

I’ve learned to observe and appreciate, but also understand that nature is not always cooperative or kind, and the world is tough for wildlife. I hope both Athena and our owl (Uptown Girl?) both have healthy chicks and successful fledglings. And this spring, no matter the outcome, I’ll have a front-row seat to their lives as parents.

A Riff on Pink-n-Blue

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Riffing on a recent post from Steve at Portraits of Wildflowers, I’m enjoying my own celebration of the annual pink-n-blue spring happening. It was Steve’s post that reminded me that I do have a redbud tree and that maybe, just maybe, it might be loaded with blooms this year. This little tree has grown apace since the front garden shed its shady ways and began thriving in full sun after the removal of a large, ice-storm damaged Arizona Ash tree.

The plant seeded itself in this spot 10-plus years ago. It didn’t grow much and never bloomed, though the foliage certainly looked to me like redbud foliage.

Absent other clues, I just wasn’t 100% certain what it was–until last spring. Last March a few of the signature dainty pink flowers, hugging close to the limbs, appeared. Yes! A redbud tree! I was tickled pink!

Once the tree was exposed to full sun, it took off in height and width, and this spring for the first time, it is in full flower production. Blooms have appeared throughout the limbs, in concert with the unfolding heart-shaped leaves.

There are several kinds of redbud trees which grow here in Texas. I believe that this one is an Eastern Redbud, Cercis canadensis var. canadensis, mostly due to its glossy leaves. There are a number of these trees in my neighborhood and there are several small seedlings in other spots in my garden.

As I’ve observed the blooms, tiny native bees seem to be the primary pollinators. On a breezy day, they’re hard at work, but difficult for me to capture in a photo.

The common name for this tree describes the red buds, before blooms open. But it’s the lovely shape, lush foliage, and sweet pink flowers that most people remember about this tree and its relatives.

Pink blooms and blue skies–spring has sprung!