Greening Up

Posted on February 20, 2020 by Tina

As days pass, there’s no slowing down for emerging buds, unfolding ferns, and greening up of the garden. In these climate changing times with weird to mild winters, it’s no longer normative for February to be Central Texas’ coldest month of the year, hosting regular hard freezes with mild days in between. Instead, chilly–not freezing–days are interspersed with warm, April/May-like temperatures. Non-native plants like irises and introduced trees gear up for growing with the surplus of balmy days, but if a hard freeze rears its icy head, those non-native plants struggle with the unexpected cold. So far, my native plants are “weathering” the weird fairly well.

Alongside older leaves which never bothered to drop, emerged new growth is appearing on a young Rough-leaf Dogwood tree, Cornus drummondii. A beautiful, small native tree, it grows well in shade and is a known wildlife winner.

My older Rough-leaf dogwood, a gift from a fellow Austin-area garden blogger (Thanks, Deb!) has grown, grown, grown. No longer is it a stick with some other sticks coming out the sides, it’s now a real tree (paraphrasing Pinocchio). New foliage has recently become noticeable, dotting limbs up and down the tree.

Last weekend, I transplanted a well-established Leatherleaf mahonia, Mahonia bealei, from my full-sun front garden to my mostly shady back garden. After half of an Arizona ash tree was damaged in 2017 during Hurricane Harvey rains, the front garden now receives significantly more sun than it did in the mahonia’s early days. The poor thing was suffering foliage burn during the long summer months; sun fried leaves dropped, causing stress for the shrub. The mahonia should be happier in my back garden where it will live in dappled shade and that’s the environment this mahonia species likes.

I hope it survives the transplant; it’s an early bloomer–great for hungry pollinators– and a tough, attractive shrub. I’ll need to remember to water regularly during July, August, and probably, in September.

I like this picture of green, with varying textures.

At the right of the photo, are straps of iris, unknown variety; in the center-front, the foliage of native columbine pair nicely with Katie’s dwarf ruellia. Back-center, you see a crimson pot topped with the foliage of fuzzy, bright green Foxtail fern. To its left, another tough non-native, Dianella. The Dianella tasmanica ‘Variegata’ is a great plant for our long, hot growing season, but oh so tender when the cold winds blow. I have 5 groups of this plant–I love it–but it’s also the only plant that I must cover when the temperatures take a deep-dive, well below freezing. So far in this non-winter winter, the Dianella have remained green, white, and stripey, with no need for covering.

Last winter, I notice a seedling of Texas Mountain Laurel, Sophora secundiflora, nestled at the edge of a clump of amaryllis that my mother gave me years ago. I’m leaving the Mountain Laurel, but where it’s situated, it will eventually grow large enough block the view of the pond from my kitchen and living room window. Yikes! That’s not going to work, but I don’t have the heart to pull it, but pull it out I must. Eventually.

The amaryllis straps should be dormant, but they’re not. Thanks mild winter! Behind these two plants, grows another group of Dianella.

I’ve grown this Mexican orchid tree, Bauhinia mexicana for about 10 years. Until the past two years, the tree regularly lost its leaves in winter frosts. This year and last, it’s had practice at becoming reliably evergreen. I like the foliage and the tiny song birds really like the foliage, but I would prefer more winter, fewer leaves.

The long-views demonstrates the greening of my back garden. To be fair, it’s not only that winters are warmer that encourages more garden green, but that I’ve planted more shade appropriate plants–many of which are evergreen, no matter the winter–to better adjust this garden’s transformation from a full sun space, to a mostly shade situation.

Looking southeast. My sister-in-law’s garden is just over the fence.

A northwesterly view.

The long view, again, looking southeast.

Greening, along with some other coloring, is also a winter thing in my front garden.

Iris blooms have emerged and will open…soon.

Ugh, if there’s a hard freeze in late February or in March, the blooms will be mush. That happened last year: a mild winter, then a hard, hard freeze during the first week of March. Most of my individual iris plants had produced stalks and along those stalks sat a minimum of 6-8 blooms each. I clipped as many irises as I was able, so that the blooms would happen, rather than losing all to the freeze. Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Every glass and ceramic container I owned was filled with irises. EVERY ONE. While it’s nice to have cut flowers in the house, I’d rather leave–and see–flowers outside. So, stay away, hard freeze(s)!!

In past years, this sitting area would be less lush, more barren. This winter, green is queen and blooms…are blooming. Firecracker/Coral plant, Russelia equisetiformis, (bottom left in photo), has produced its tubular red-orange flowers all winter.

Back when winters were normal, the Mexican honeysuckle, Justicia spicigera (far left in photo) would be frozen and by now, pruned to the ground; ditto the bronze foliaged Ruellia ‘Chi Chi’ (center-right in the photo).

We live in a new climate paradigm and must adjust and adapt; we’ve waited too late to mitigate these early impacts of climate change. In my own garden, the best I hope for is utilizing native plants as much as possible because of their evolutionary partnership with the capricious Texas weather patterns, without–and with–the onslaught of our changing climate. Going forward, I accept that non-native plants, even those which have been reliable, will be less so. Milder, greener winters, early springs, searing summers, and delayed autumns are here. Now.

Winter Oranges

Posted on February 12, 2020 by Tina

Wet, cold, and gloomy describes recent days, but after all, it is February and some winter weather is expected. My Farmhouse Delivery of local produce came yesterday, and with it, some oranges. The the rogue grapefruit keeping the oranges company is from last week’s delivery and became my afternoon snack. Yum.

Hamlin oranges and Ruby-red grapefruit from Texas valley farmers. There were originally four oranges…

Fresh fruit aside, my real appreciation of winter oranges has recently resided with butterflies and blooms, here demonstrated by the orange-winged Gulf Fritillary, Agraulis vanillae, nectaring on a softer version of orange represented by a Globe mallow bloom, Sphaeralcea ambigua. My garden has enjoyed a surplus of the fritillaries this winter because its host plant, passion flower vine, remains green and providing for fritillary caterpillars hatching from eggs.

Globe mallow is a cool season bloomer. It’s a native shrub to high altitudes in far West Texas and New Mexico, but grows well here in Central Texas–in the right conditions. I struggled to find a place for this beautiful plant, but only have one spot where it’s grown successfully: it’s happily planted in a raised bed which is in year-round, full, west-facing sun. The mallow has stunning grey-green, frilly foliage, paired with salmony-orange flowers.

Another orange winter beauty is the Mexican honeysuckle, Justicia spicigera, which blooms prolifically during our milder winters. I especially like this plant because of its water-wise character in summer, its ability to thrive in shade-to-part-sun, and its role as a great pollinator attractor. During the warm months of the year, honeybees, native Carpenter bees, and a variety of butterflies all flock to these orange delights. In recent weeks I haven’t noticed any pollinators on the tubular blooms, not even the active fritillaries, but I know the nectaring insects will be back for their “orange” juice in the near future.

The orange has brightened my garden this winter, because even with tepid temps, there aren’t many flowers abloom. That will soon change: I’ve spotted an iris and a columbine, each with at least one bud that should open in the next week or so.

The oranges cheer dull days, timely and welcome reminders of joy in color and life from gardens.

Thanks to Anna and her Wednesday Vignette. Pop over to her beautiful blog and check out other February musings.

February is for Wildlife Lovers: Wildlife Wednesday, February 2020

Posted on February 5, 2020 by Tina

Virginia is for Lovers is a long-time advertising slogan used to appeal to tourists interested in visiting Virginia and it’s apparently been a successful one. My riff on that slogan is February is for Wildlife Lovers in celebration of Wildlife Wednesday during this month where love and pairdom is paramount: a month of hearts and chocolates–and the birds and the bees–though for our purposes here, it’s the birds and the butterflies.

February is the month when human couples send flowers, share candy and/or make reservations at absurdly expensive and noisy restaurants. But some of my backyard birds are also busy in the art of love, or at least, in the art of settling down to the business of wooing, mating, and preparing for a family of winged things.

I typically see either the male or the female Red-bellied Woodpecker, Melanerpes carolinus, but I rarely see both partners on the same day. A couple of weekends ago, that paradigm changed, the female visiting first, in the tree.

It’s not a classically well-framed shot, but I love the stink-eye that she looks like she’s giving me. Red-bellied eye-rolling is about to commence!

After moving up along a main branch of my Red oak tree, she fluttered down to the black-oiled sunflower feeder for a quick snack. The female Red-bellies have little-to-no blush of red on their bellies and their splash of head red starts toward the back of their heads, extending down the nape of their necks.

A short while later, a handsome woodpecker chap visited the same tree and feeder.

“Did ya get a good shot of my rosy, woodpeckier chest?”

With more red on his face, head, and belly, he’s a brightly patterned catch. I assume these two comprise the same couple who raised two clutches of junior woodpeckers last year. Red-bellied woodpeckers are monogamous and each share in nest building and chick raising. The males choose the nesting site, starting the pecking work on the hole; if the female accepts the offer and the site, she and her partner finish the construction together: the couple that builds together, stays together! Red-bellies are known to use the same tree for their nests, but build a new nesting hole for each new set of eggs.

At about the time that the Red-bellied couple visited, I enjoyed a similar sighting of both a female, then male Downy Woodpecker, Dryobates pubescens, again on the same day. The female has no red on her cute little head, but she’s adorned in snazzy black and white on her head, wings and back, with a lovely white tummy.

The male Downy has a dab of red atop his head, accompanied by similar-to-his mate black and white patterned feathers. Like the Red-bellies, the Downies are monogamous and both partners parent offspring. Last spring I enjoyed the privilege of watching Daddy Downy teach his little one how to flit from tree-to-feeder, then back again. Daddy birds rock!

I look forward to a new set of woodpecker kids in the neighborhood. The Red-bellied Woodpeckers nested in my neighbor’s tree–the one that my SIL now owns–and I’m certain that my SIL will enjoy watching these charmers as they build the nesting hole(s) and once again, become parents.

I don’t know where the Downy Woodpeckers nest. They fly in a northwesterly direction from my back garden, but I don’t know what tree, or trees, they’ve chosen to secure their little ones in past breeding seasons.

More pairing is underway with the mating of Gulf Fritillary butterflies, Agraulis vanillae. Butterfly wooing is quieter than bird wooing and mostly involves undulating flight patterns between the partners, who then rest somewhere as they seal the deal.

Due to our mild winter, there are active butterflies and not only Gulf Fritillaries, though they’re clearly in breeding mode with egg laying to follow. While I’d like to have some hard freezes (this month–NOT in March!), I haven’t at all objected to butterflies during this typically drab time of year. There are still some flowers for nectaring and my passion vine–the nursery for Gulf Fritillary caterpillars–is green and able to provide sustenance for the larvae, given that a hard freeze hasn’t yet killed it to the ground.

The breeding season for birds, butterflies, bees–and heck, everything else–is about to begin. It’s a time that gardeners can provide food, in the form of seeds and fruits, and with diverse choices of plants, as well as water and cover. If your garden is welcoming to wildlife, you can sit back and observe remarkable events in your garden: you’ll enjoy watching the wildlife lovers and their offspring and you’ll become a wildlife lover.

Please leave a link to your post when you comment here and happy wildlife gardening!