According to the calendar, autumn is in place, with winter just around the bend. Maybe someone should remind one of my Columbine plants and some eager Spiderworts that they’re supposed to be resting right now.
This Yellow Columbine, Aquilegia chrysantha, has blossomed over the last few weeks.
These are spring flowers which usually bloom from March through May. On occasion, this particular specimen has gifted some pretties in early fall, but I don’t recall it ever flowering this late in the season.
The yellow plays peek-a-boo with foliage of Red Spider Lily, Lycoris radiata.
The two fairy-like blooms complement ground-cover greens with yellow cheer. The spring-like foliage, which will remain evergreen throughout winter, is that of Yellow Columbine, Spider Lily and Common Yarrow. A crisp of autumn is in place with the golden-tan leaf of an American Sycamore.
The spiderwort that I grow are all pass-a-long plants, so I don’t know their exact heritage. Because they tend to be tall, I’ve always assumed they’re some hybrid of Giant Spiderwort, Tradescantia gigantea. I’ve seen the occasional bloom in December and January, but those are usually short, the stems and flowers low to the ground. In my front garden, a couple of clumps of Spiderwort have grown tall and are blooming, as if time skipped the gloom of winter and joyfully leaped to March and April.
This one is a lavender hue.This group suggests blue in its color
I certainly don’t mind seeing the Spiderwort. As weedy as they can become, I always welcome them in my garden. On warmer, sunny days, honeybees are busy nosing around in the blooms.
As well, a remnant of summer is hanging on in the form of a group of common sunflowers. This stalk is broken, but the bent piece maintains enough life in that section that it has bloomed prolifically since August, offering dabs of sunshine on dreary days.
This gardener firmly believes that gardens don’t always operate according to calendars and that plants have minds of their own.
Along with a bevy of flowery blooms, late summer and autumn showcases the graceful good looks of native grasses. Native grasses are attractive year-round but really strut their stuff in autumn. I’ve grown the shade-loving Inland Sea Oats, Chasmanthium latifolium for years and love them, but grasses requiring the intense Texas sun I could only admire in other gardens. Now that my front garden is sun-drenched, native grasses have a place and they have shined.
I’m besotted with Gulf Muhly, Muhlenbergia capillaris. I was never successful in growing these pink, frothy pretties, until appropriate, sunny conditions developed. I now have plenty of sun-baked spots and four new Gulf Muhly have nestled in nicely.
Two older Gulf Muhlies have grown well in another spot for a couple of years, but in my re-vamped sunshiny space, there are an additional four individuals. These muhlies are slender, shapely green throughout spring and summer, but in October, their pink-purple plumes add gauzy elegance and a swath of color in the last days of the growing season.
A closer view of this purple-pink magic.
I planted an arc of four muhlies, though only one has powered up the color in full. These have been in the ground less than a year and since this photo was taken, the other three, while still behind in the fluff, have filled out well. Gorgeous whether in sunny or cloudy conditions, they add softness and movement in the garden.
I have successfully grown a couple of Lindheimer’s or Big Muhly, Muhlenbergia lindheimeri, for a few years. Another beautiful plant year round, the lacelike plumes develop in autumn, catching the sun’s rays and swaying with the wind.
These three fit well together in the garden!
The halo of bright green behind the middle Big Muhly is a Bamboo Muhly, Muhlenbergia dumosa. Native to Arizona, it’s a large grass that grows well in sun and shade. The even-taller yellow flowers belong to Plateau Goldeneye
This is my oldest Big Muhly and it’s always a stunner.
Spring and summer silvery Mexican Feather Grass, Nassella tenuissima, have switched their colors to autumn toasty, with a hint of sage. These small grasses fit well in a variety of settings and like all the native grasses, are tough, hardy plants. I’ve had more luck with this grass in part-shade, but am pleased with how they’ve fared in full sun.
In the new sun garden I’ve added three Little Bluestem, Schizachyrium scoparium. I like this little grass, tidy and dainty, though confess some disappointment that its autumn color hasn’t yet materialized as advertised.
The photo is busy. The two Bluestems are overtaken by some pushy Rock Rose, Pavonia lasiopetala.
You can see the green clumps and the stems that shoot upwards in fall. There are even some cottony seed heads already formed on one of the plants.
This spot actually gets a little bit of fall shade as the angle of the sun is lower, so I’m in the process of moving the trio to a nearby spot which I think will get full sun in summer and fall. In fact, the third of the trio I’ve already moved:
This one has some nice burgundy/rusty foliage action, not fully in fall garb, but more in line with the typical autumn colors of Little Bluestem. This individual never developed its vertical stems because when I allow my younger cat, Lena, in the garden (supervised and only for a few minutes!) she loves to munch this particular grass.
Maybe Little Bluestem needs something eating it to get fall color??
This post completes a short series highlighting the autumn Texas garden delights of birds, blooms, pollinators, and grasses. Our summers are hot, but the payoff in utilizing native plants in our wonderfully long growing season is an autumn filled with color, movement, texture, and life. And isn’t that what’s a garden should be?
Autumn weather has finally arrived. Clouds and rain, with chilly temperatures (upper 30s and 40s), it’s unseasonably cool. I’m not minding it though, as we have more than our share of balmy days. Just before the wet and cool set in, the pollinators were everywhere, all day long: flitting, flying, nectaring and gifting their unique grace to the garden.
The Monarch butterfly migration didn’t nearly match last autumn’s magnificence, but these seasonal visitors drifted through, and for about 6 weeks, there was always some Monarch action in the garden. Once we warm up again, it’s likely I’ll still see a few lingerers, but it’ll be next March before they make their way back through Central Texas from Mexico.
Monarch butterflies are heading to their winter digs in Mexico. Here’s hoping the weather cooperates, whisking them south safely and protecting them in their roosts.
Late summer and autumn bring a number of yellow butterflies in the garden. One of the more common of the numerous yellows are the Southern Dogface, Zerene cesonia. This one enjoys what Mexican Honeysuckle offers.
American Lady, Vanessa virginiensis, are also regulars in Central Texas. This one nectared on the prolific blooms of a Henry Duelberg, Salvia farinacea.
Another familiar autumn butterfly is the American Snout, Libytheana carinenta. These are perhaps not the most beautiful of butterflies, but they’re charming with that extended “snout” as well as their petite form. In some years, they migrate in large numbers, but this autumn, only a few fluttered.
Not outdone by the butterflies, bees are still active, too. One of my favorite native perennials is the Texas Craglily, Echeandia texensis. It’s also favored by a variety of pollinator types, including honeybees.
This isn’t a particularly good photo, but I like how it captured the full-to-bursting corbicula or pollen basket. I like to call honeybees’ corbiculae pollinator pantaloons.
Also buzzing through the garden are a variety of syrphid, or flower flies. This little one is working on its pollinating skills! In fact, there were all kinds of flies around the flowers and they’re excellent pollinators.
A diminutive butterfly that I’m sure I’ve seen in my garden in past seasons, but I know I’ve seen when perusing through insect resources, is this Reakirt’s Blue, Echinargus isola. I enjoyed the flitty antics of several individuals before the rainy period set in.
While attractive enough to the human eye when their wings are up, when open wide, a whole new look emerges. I love the blue in the wings.
One interesting fact about Reakirt’s butterflies is that females lay a single egg on a flower bud and the caterpillar eats the flower, seed pods, and only sometimes, the foliage. Additionally, the caterpillars are accompanied by ants, who slurp up the cats’ “sugary secretions” left behind.
This little cutey was a super fast flyer, but I did nab one or two shots. Called a Dainty Sulpher, Nathalis iole, I’ve seen this specie before in the garden, though had never taken a decent photograph. This dainty lives in a wide range of places, but doesn’t survive cold winters. Host plants include those in the aster family and I grow plenty of them. I didn’t see any obvious eggs or caterpillars, but I plan to keep a keen eye out for them next fall.
Common Checkered-Skipper, Burnsius communis, is a butterfly that lives in most of the continental United States. A large skipper, it’s also a skipper that cooperates with its human admirers–look at that lovely wingspan. These skippers use plants in the mallow family as their hosts and I grow several: Turk’s Caps, Globe Mallow, and Rock Rose. It’s no wonder that these butterflies are in my garden for late summer and fall.
A cousin to the Monarchs, the Queen Butterfly, Danaus gilippus, rivals in beauty! This handsome male nectars on the bloom of a Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii
And this one? It’s all about the almost-spent-blooms of a Plateau Goldeneye, Viguiera dentata. Queens don’t migrate like the Monarchs, so I’m likely to see them in summer.
It really has been a glorious October and November and I fully expect that once the chill passes and before our first freeze, some of that glory will return. Central Texas enjoys a long growing season and therefore, a long pollinator season. Some pollinators have gone to rest, like many of the native bees, but others will over-winter and be active during our sunny days. They’re welcome anytime!
My Gardener Says... 