Ice in the Garden

As it happens most years during the first deep freeze of winter, Frostweed, Verbesina virginica, has graced my winter garden with its swirls of ice sculptures.

Along with the most common name of ‘Frostweed’ which pays descriptive homage to this winter phenomena, ‘Iceplant’ and ‘Iceweed’ are also names for V. virginica.

Twirls-n-curls of ice ribbons form, usually at the base of the plant, when the temperature drops significantly below freezing.

As the freeze deepens, water in the stems is released, freezing in beautiful formations along the stems, undulating around the base of the plant and often traveling upwards along the stem. 

In this photo, at the top left, notice burst open stems. Ice crystals have filled the gaps.

The ice sculptures themselves have many names: ice ribbons, ice flowers, ice fringes, ice fingers, ice filaments, ice leaves, frost flowers, frost ribbons, frost freaks, frost beards, frost castles (Forrest M. Mims III), crystallofolia (coined by Bob Harms at The University of Texas), rabbit ice and rabbit butter. I think ice flowers and frost flowers are the most poetic of the names, and frost freaks and frost castles the quirkiest. I typically refer to them as ice ribbons. 

Frostweed is particularly well known for extravagant ice ribbons, but many plants produce similar ice crystals during the first freeze. In my own garden I’ve seen various salvias, lantanas, and other asters form ice ribbons around their frozen stems, but none challenge the beauty, complexity, or size of those created by Frostweed.

All of these ice ribbons are from Frostweed plants and their appearance in the garden is as brief as they are beautiful. Once the freezing conditions are finished and the temperature rises, the delicate crystals melt. The ice ribbons will not form again until next winter’s first, hard freeze. Ice ribbons are once, and done, and ephemeral.

I pruned back this Frostweed in November, planning to remove it from the edge of my garden. I left just a bit of stem and root, mostly out of forgetfulness or laziness or some combination of both. I’m glad that I didn’t yet remove what’s left of the plant. 

What a lovely gift on this frigid day.

As I walked through the garden, bundled, but cold, a Northern Mockingbird chirped. It allowed let me get close to where it perch, fluffed feathers and all, in the Red Bud tree. We shared a moment in the quiet cold.

Winter Fat

It’s suet season for the birds who visit my gardens. This over-wintering Orange-crowned Warbler, Leiothlypis celata, is a frequent nibbler of the peanut butter infused, commercial suet block.

I only offer suet in the cooler months of the year. Central Texas is far too warm from April/May until December, to set out suet. It melts in summer’s heat or turns rancid in balmy autumn; it becomes gross and the birds won’t touch it. Can you blame them? There are better alternatives for commercial bird food in those months: sunflower and safflower seeds, peanuts, and mixed varieties of seeds all give proper nourishment for birds, and while the birds are eating and jostling for the best perches, entertainment for humans. In winter, suet provides needed calories during cold temperatures, though black-oiled sunflower seeds and peanuts also supply healthy fat alternatives as well.

Using commercial bird seed in the yard is a wonderful way to observe, appreciate, and learn about our native and migrating birds. That said, native plants which have foliage, produce seeds and fruits, and host a variety of insects, are the best food sources for birds. Plants and birds evolved together over eons, and plants exist to feed and provide cover for critters. A garden full of native trees, shrubs, perennials, and annuals is not only beautiful, but more importantly, is alive with activity and life. Birds, pollinators, mammals, and reptiles seek food and shelter in a diverse ecosystem–no matter the size. Human caregivers of garden ecosystems can appreciate the garden’s beauty while enjoying the antics of those who need the garden to survive and thrive. A healthy, diverse garden community is vital for wildlife and a continual source of fun and learning throughout the year.

Winter is a good time to plan a new garden. Removing some (or all!) of your sterile, water-hogging, high maintenance turf, and replacing it with native plants is the way to bring nature home: to provide a safe place for wildlife displaced through urban encroachment, habitat loss, and improper chemical use.

So far this winter, the Orange-crowned Warbler is the only winter migratory visitor at the suet. I haven’t yet witnessed suet snacking from Yellow-rumped Warblers or Ruby-crowned Kinglets, though I fully expect to. Some resident birds, Carolina Wrens and Black-crested Titmice, have made a stop at the suet feeder part of their daily rounds and are suet buddies with the Orange-crowns. 

In my garden this winter, I’ve observed two Orange-crowned warblers, as well as one Yellow-rumped Warbler and one Ruby-crowned Kinglet. These three species are not native to Texas, but migrate south for the winter months; there are usually a few of each in my gardens from November through April. I enjoy their presence in the garden and having feeders allows me to observe them more easily. These flitty, tiny birds are challenging to observe in trees and shrubs! Once all the foliage from the trees has dropped, the birds are easier to see as they bop about the limbs, eating insects, and chasing one another in duels for the best eating spots.

This female noshes at the suet and peanut feeders several times each day. I buy my suet from Wild Birds Unlimited, but many bird fans make their own suet and there are plenty of recipes on the internet. 

Winter is a great time to bird watch and plan for the next garden season. Gardening with, or simply observing native plants is a small but powerful counter in a world where we as individuals have little control or positive influence. Spending time outdoors, listening to bird and insect song, creating and nurturing life and diversity with a native garden is a balm for an often broken world and a positive step toward a more hopeful future.

Pollinators’ Delight

As of mid December, my garden has experienced only the slightest touch of a light freeze, so some plants are still blooming, especially those plants which hug close to the ground. The late season availability of flowers makes for happy, busy pollinators during sunny days.

The autumn blooming ground-cover, Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii, is a favorite of many pollinators, big and small. This native-to-Texas perennial boasts bright green foliage and vibrant flowers with a fuzzy structure that pollinators adore.

I’ve seen many a Grey Hairstreak, Strymon melinus, nectaring on the mistflowers. This is one of its kind visiting, wings spread wide, proboscis deep in the bloom.

Another common pollinator of the popular aster are Fiery Kippers, Hylephila phyleus. I particularly like the orange and brown of the skipper paired with the bloom’s rich lavender color.

An American Hoverfly, Eupeodes americanus, can’t resist the bounty of the mistflower. I’ve seen other flies pollinating, but catching them in action proves elusive on breezy days. This yellow-n-black stripey fella cooperated with the photo session.

As always in my garden, the honeybees are active. If there’s a flower available for sipping, honeybees are all-in.

Yellow is a color of autumn and this Little Yellow, Pyrisitia lisa, is one of several who’ve worked the patch of mistflower for the past few weeks. 

The Queen rules the mistflower. Queen butterflies, Danaus gilippus, are regulars in my garden. During autumn and until the first hard freeze, they’re particularly fond of Gregg’s Mistflower; Queens are some of its most loyal customers.  This male Queen, along with several others of both genders, flit to the mistflower once the sun is shining on the blooms.

Male Queens and Monarchs have two black dots on their hindwings, located on either side of their abdomen. The black dots emit pheromones to attract the females. And they look cool, too!

Another queenly view…

Weirdly, Monarchs, Danaus plexippus, are still migrating through Central Texas on their way to their Northern Mexico wintering homes. I don’t recall seeing monarchs this late in fall, but I’m happy that there’s plenty for them to nectar from.

This Monarch’s wing looks like it met with a predator or possibly another kind of accident. It flew well though and I’m sure it will have no trouble getting to Mexico–assuming no other mishaps.

Tres mariposas, three butterflies–all in a row! Two Queens (left and center) and one Monarch, far right. Did I mention that these butterflies love Gregg’s Mistflower? Often there are even more individuals snacking at the patch of flowers.

More admiring fans of mistflower are Painted Lady butterflies, Vanessa cardui. The ones visiting my mistflower have been skittish, but I finally caught a couple of photos demonstrating their enjoyment of the flowers–and their beauty.

These are but a few of the pollinators working this popular flower during the zenith of its bloom season. Not shown, but definitely groupies of Gregg’s Mistflower, are multitudes of tiny native bees (which never seem to perch and pollinate, but must do?) and other too-quick-to-catch-with-the-camera butterflies. This lovely plant will bloom and provide for pollinators until a hard freeze renders it dead for the season. Fuzzy blooms then turn a warm toasty color and over time, mistflower fluff drifts with the breezes. 

In a few month’s time and with spring’s warmth, new growth will emerge from the soil, signature puffy flowers will appear in clusters, and pollinators will return.