They’re Off!

Posted on February 18, 2024 by Tina

Winter placed its chilly hands on the garden these last two days, including gifting a thin layer of ice in the backyard birdbaths this morning. But the weather pattern is in flux with each passing day as the march toward winter’s end and spring’s beginning commences here in Central Texas. Later this week, the forecast is for high 70s, possibly warmer. Even without that warm smooch, the plants in my garden are raring to go and ramping up for the 2024 growing season.

On a cloudy day last week, I noticed (as yet uneaten) fruit on the Possumhaw Holly, Ilex decidua, keeping company with emerging new foliage. I like this great example of seasonal transition period. Blue Jays, Northern Mockingbirds, and Grey Squirrels are feasting on the fruit, but I’m waiting for a flock of Cedar Waxwings to swoop in and render the fruit a sweet memory.

Four-nerve Daisy, Tetraneuris scaposa, never stops blooming, though some of mine were freezer-burned in January during a very cold week. Now? The sunny yellow blooms are spring-bright and open for pollinator business.

This small (maybe?) native Halictidae bee found a sweet spot for nectar sipping and pollen gathering one afternoon. I didn’t disturb its hunt for the sweet stuff as I puttered in the garden.

Four-nerve Daisies are barely damaged by most freezes, but in the above photo, on the right side, you can see a bloom stalk that would have flowered in late January, except for that one deep-frozen week. The other bloom stalks emerged post-hard freeze.

On another day, another, different native Halictidae bee, busily works a daisy bloom.

Some of the earliest blooms in my garden (and occasionally some of the latest) are Spiderworts; a handful have emerged from green foliage to grace the garden and feed hungry pollinators. A favorite early flower for many types of bees, from mid-March until mid-May, my garden will be awash in an array of purple-to-pink blooms.

Those plants whose blooms appear later in spring and summer are flushing out with verdant foliage, like this rosette of Blue Curls (also called Caterpillars), Phacelia congesta.

A couple of young Blue Curls accompany a robust rosette of American Basket-flower, Centaurea americana. Both promise plenty of flowering and pollinator action later this year. The rich green foliage is a welcome change from winter’s muted tones.

This potted American Century Plant, Agave americana, enjoys some foliage friends in the form of one European Poppy (right), a Blue Curl (left), and a front-n-center Carolina geranium, Geranium carolinianum.

I grow five Desert Globemallow shrubs, Sphaeralcea ambigua. This gorgeous plant is a cool season bloomer here in Central Texas and requires full, blasting sun and decent drainage. Ruffly, sage-green leaves pairs beautifully with Dreamsicle orange blooms.

This globemallow withstands hard freezes, but if the temperature falls in the the teens–or lower–damage will occur. My shrubs experienced some freeze damage in January’s freeze, but all are producing blooms on the healthy stems–much to a variety of bees’ delight.

Honeybees are out and about, collecting for the the hive!

I fed the honeys during that cold week, but there’s been enough flowering (I think…) during most of this winter, plus both hives had honey stores. Our first hive check is on the to-do list for this next week to assess how the ladies are and how much honey, if any, remains from last season.

I’ve been engaged with winter pruning of the garden, but I’m nearly done. I let leaves remain on the ground, further protecting and nourishing life, and eventually decaying for future growing seasons.

The garden has awakened, its inhabitants ready to live and reproduce. Plants and critters are in sync with their companion life-cycles.

It begins, anew.

Some Backyard Birds

Posted on February 6, 2024 by Tina

Throughout the seasons, it’s fun and educational to watch backyard birds. Winter-to-late spring brings a wider variety of feathered friends and with each day marching toward spring breeding season, avian activity ramps up. Over-wintering, migratory birds have settled in, as much as they will do, until their need to breed becomes so demanding that the birds set forth northward to their nesting sites.

This season there are at least three Orange-crowned Warblers, Leiothlypis celata, visiting my garden each day. Sometimes, all three are perched in bare shrubs and trees, sometimes they’re chasing one another, and sometimes one–or all three–are at the feeders, gobbling up the good stuff.

I’m not sure whether this cutey is a male or female; it never turned just so, to allow me a good enough look at a possible masculine orange dab atop its little head. But it ate contentedly, the seed cylinder being a popular spot for many birds, including all three of the Orange-crowned Warblers.

So far this winter, only one female Yellow-rumped Warbler, Setophaga coronata, has visited the garden. She likes peanuts and the offerings from the seed cylinder,

…but she also forages along the ground. The yellow rump has not presented itself for a decent photo, but stay tuned, because at some point I’ll get a chance to document that butter butt.

This Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Corthylio calendula, bopped along the bare limb of one of the Red Oak trees, pausing just long enough for me to snag a shot. These are tiny, flitty birds, which I see only in winter. They don’t visit feeders often, but enjoy nibbling small insects on trees and shrubs. Males sport a truly ruby-red tuft of feathers which they’ll show when flirting with females or mansplaining to other males. I don’t know if this one is a male, its ruby feathers weren’t visible. The kinglet’s tiny size and wing bars, not to mention its endearing face, are other reliable identifiers of this bird.

Red-winged Blackbirds, Agelaius phoeniceus, are spring to early summer visitors, but a crew with a couple of males and several females have been hanging around the garden. This attractive female sat still for a moment, taking a break from her meal of seeds and nuts.

White-winged Doves are ubiquitous in Austin’s urban settings, including my garden. They’re here. Lots of them. Year-round. Maybe because they’re so common, I’m not interested in them, but I’m also not particularly fond of them; I refer to them as rats with wings. But during winter Mourning Doves, Zenaida macroura, like these two sweethearts, hang out in the garden on warm, clear days, sunbathing and pecking at what has dropped on the ground from the trees and feeders. These rarer (to my garden) birds are most welcome.

Black-crested Titmice, Baeolophus atricristatus, are year-round resident birds, singing melodically and favoring the peanut and sunflower seeds.

In winter, after leaf drop, it’s easier to spy these diminutive, darling birds. There are not many critters more charming than a titmouse.

Woodpeckers have returned; they’re scarce during autumn, after babies are raised and fledged. Parents need a break, I guess. Recently, I’ve enjoyed the antics of three Downy Woodpeckers, Dryobates pubescens: two females (like this one) and one male, who sports a bright red hat. I often hear the Downies well before I spot them in the Red Oak trees.

The Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Melanerpes carolinus, are also around this February. This pretty boy, and sometimes a female, enjoy the peanuts I offer. They’re particularly shy around me, but once they’re on the feeders, they defend their meal-time munchies, even from bullying Blue Jays.

You’ll notice that the head is red, but the bird is named after its belly–where there is a blush of red, not seen in this photo. There exists a Red-headed Woodpecker and it lives in this area, though I’ve never seen one in my garden. I’m still waiting and watching…

This ruddy male House Finch, Haemorhous mexicanus, peeks around the safflower feeder at me, while the sunshine yellow male Lesser Goldfinch, Spinus psaltria, glances shyly away from the camera. Lesser Goldfinches come and go in my garden throughout the year. They enjoy the seeds of Plateau Goldeneye and common sunflowers, but they visit the safflower or sunflower seed feeders if they fancy a less foliaged dining spot. This Lesser, along with his ruddy buddy House Finch, certainly add cheery spots of color in the otherwise muted winter garden.

It’s easier to notice male House Finches, though not because they’re more common than the females, but because they’re more colorful. That said, I think the females are adorable, if more subtly colored.

Look at that winsome face! House Finches are some of my favorite birds, and fortunately for my backyard bird watching, always around. They’re social and chatty birds, visiting with one another as they eat. Honestly, they never shut up!

Other birds have come into the garden, too. The neighborhood Cooper’s Hawk and Red Tail Hawks swoop through from time-to-time. Sadly, my Eastern Screech Owl(s) are gone and I’m disappointed; I’ll miss (yet again!) their beautiful early morning trilling and their enchanting chicks, but there are other Screeches in my neighborhood who are settling in to their nest boxes. Hopefully, I’ll be able to observe their families.

European Starlings and Monk Parakeets have visited, neither of which I’m crazy about. I like the Monks: they’re beautiful and entertaining–total clowns–but they hog the safflower feeder. They’re not bullies like the starlings, but they scare all the smaller birds due to their size and their refusal to leave the feeders once they’ve started eating. The also make a bit of a mess…

With each passing day, I’m adding more seeds and peanuts to the feeders. I’m hearing more calls and bird son, and witnessing more bird activity. Winter is still a thing, but it’s clear to me that spring is not too far away and I think wildlife knows that too!

Roughleaf Dogwood (Cornus drummondii): A Seasonal Look

Posted on January 25, 2024 by Tina

I became enamored with Texas native Roughleaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, during the time I managed the Green Garden at Austin’s Zilker Botanical Gardens. I knew about “Texas” dogwood, an understory small tree or shrub which blooms in spring and produces white fall fruits, but I had never planted one of my own. Nor did I originally pay attention to the stunning specimen situated in the woodlands plants section of the Green Garden, set back from the formal pathway. I recall the golden leaves which brightened the dogwoods’ limbs, and then the ground below it, during the December after I was hired. But it was in spring that the puffs of creamy dogwood flowers really caught my attention. Snowy floret clusters gracefully adorned the slender limbs of the Zilker dogwood, the little tree set off from a well-worn path to another Zilker garden, nonetheless demanding attention from passersby.

I was smitten.

I mulled purchasing my own little dogwood, but a gardening friend (thanks Deb!) gifted to me a seedling C drummondii from her Westlake garden. I planted my baby dogwood in the center-back section of my back perennial garden. Eager for it to grow up, I waited. And waited. Truthfully, it didn’t do much in the growth department until I removed a tired, old Tacoma stans ‘Esperanza’ that had been, for many years, the main actor in that garden and whose size hampered the growth of the dogwood. Once Tacoma was gone from the garden, the Roughleaf Dogwood grew apace and came into its own.

I eventually added a second dogwood, purchased from a local nursery, and placed it at the back of the pond.

A summer vignette from 2019, the two young dogwoods circled. Beloved Nuri the Cat checks out the fish in the pond.

December 2021 with early “autumn” color; the dogwoods have grown.

Since then, I’ve practiced botanical pay-it-forward by digging up and gifting my own dogwood starts to other eager dogwood lovers, plus I’ve planted one more in a different part of the back garden.

Roughleaf Dogwood is deciduous, which means leaves drop after the first freezes of the winter season. Multi-limbed with slim, spidery appendages, the tree can be prune for shape according to human preferences.

As I’m an admirer of nature’s evolutionary practices, I don’t typically prune much on my dogwoods, unless an extremity is nudging up against another plant in a way I find bothersome. Years ago, I’d read that dogwoods had a tendency to colonize out in a garden situation. In its first decade (under the shadow of the T. stans) that was never a problem. But as my first dogwood has matured, there are root-bound outreaches of new trunks.

Some of these I’ve dug up and either gifted or composted, but the ones near the original trunk I’ve let remain. Any that pop up further away from the mother plant I prune back to the soil once or twice each year; newbie trunks are easily spotted in winter. I could dig them out, but they’re a bit too deep-rooted for my back to handle, so it’s a snip-to-the-top-soil for these potentially pesky wannabee trees. If you have a larger space, let them go to grow, bloom, set fruit and be dogwoods. According to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, various songbirds nest in dogwood thickets, so that’s a great reason for allowing thickets to develop–if you have the space. But for those in more restrictive urban plots, some management of dogwood enthusiasm is a must.

In early spring, usually March, the first, verdant leaves appear: tiny, bright green and delicate. Often, the branchlets that held last season’s flowers and fruits are still attached to the awakening tree.

The spring green leaves make a statement about the longer and warmer days settling in.

Oak pollen decorates the newly emerged dogwood leaves.

Flower clusters follow, though they take time to develop to the point of offering open blooms for feeding wildlife and admiration by humans.

The flowers are constantly visited by a wide variety of pollinators.

I see a multitude of flies and native bees on my flowers. Honeybees and skippers are also frequent sippers of the nectar provided. Sometimes, butterflies rest on the foliage.

The bloom season lasts into May for my two plants.

Hot summer months see the dogwoods as lush and green, water-wise, and a good place for birds to rest.

Yellow Warbler, *Setophaga petechia*, resting in the dogwood after a splash in the pond.

By late August/early September, luscious, creamy fruits are available for both resident and migratory birds.

I’ve mostly witnessed Blue Jays and Northern Mockingbirds at the berries, but they’re sneaky about nibbling while successfully hiding behind branches and clusters of leaves.

Usually by late fall, no fruits are left on either of my dogwoods; this is when foliage color show commences. Shorter days and a couple of light freezes trigger dogwood foliage color changes, and is always reliably lovely. Typically, the early foliage color are yellows and pastels.

In time and with ongoing cold temperatures, deep burgundy covers many leaves, the dramatic colors remaining until leaf drop.

January and February bring bare dogwoods.

Bare limbs allow for easier bird watching.

Black-crested Titmouse, *Baeolophus atricristatus*

Roughleaf Dogwood is native not only in Texas, but throughout a wide swath of the United States and also in Ontario, Canada. I’ve never experienced any disease or insect issues with either of my trees and drainage hasn’t been an issue. Roughleaf Dogwood is a tough plant which remains lush and green throughout our hot, long summers. It is not deer resistant.

If you have the room in your garden, plant this lovely small tree or shrub. Roughleaf Dogwood is an ideal urban native plant. It’s easy to grow, provides for wildlife and is an attractive plant.

In Spring: