Bees A’buzz

Posted on August 21, 2025 by Tina

It was a slow start to the carpenter and bumble bee action this year, I assume because of the heavy rains experienced in Central Texas in May and June/early July. But recently the garden is a’buzz with honeybees and a variety of native bees, including the big, noisy carpenter and bumble bees.

This Horsefly-like Carpenter bee, Xylocopa tabaniformis, worked the prolific blooms of a Flame Acanthus, Anisacanthus quadrifidus, in my front garden.

These charming bees are probably my favorite bees. They’re noisy and buzzy, darling in looks. I love their racing stripes and melt at their dreamy blue eyes.

I like this up-side-down visage: bee-butt up pointed upward, proboscis-leading snout concentrated on the liquid deep in the tubular nectar fonts where the bee’s proboscis is headed.

Nectar stealing or nectar robbing is when an insect pokes or bites a hole in flowers that are too deep or small for the insect to enter from the open bloom. The insect then sips nectar without entering the flower’s innards, bypassing direct pollination.

Ole Blue Eyes here is just about to deliver its pointy proboscis, aiming for the fleshy, thin petal and the sweet stuff inside. The bee sliced the petal with its formidable mandibles to gain entry.

Bum-up view of the nectar-stealing, nectar-sipping bee. While direct pollination isn’t happening, you’ll notice grains of pollen sprinkled on Ole Blue Eyes’ body. It’s likely that some of those grains will play a role in pollination.

The other bees I’m seeing more of–and a big Huzzah! for that–are American Bumble bees, Bombus pensylvanicus. These graceful, yellow-n-black sweethearts are working many kinds of flowers right now, but a favorite bumble dining spot are the blue blooms of Henry Duelberg Sage, Salvia farinacea, ‘Henry Duelberg’. Notice the pollen booty on this bee’s pollen pantaloon, also known as a corbicula. If you look carefully, you can see a dab of golden on the other side of the bee–no doubt that pantaloon also carries a load of pollen.

My garden always enjoys more insect action, especially of the pollinator kind, as the growing season progresses. Heavy rains in spring and early summer often damage ground and wood nesters, so their procreation is slowed. Those insects rally as summer heats up and stable weather patterns settle in. In a healthy, diverse garden community, the pollinators persevere, the garden flourishes, and the gardener gives thanks.

Bathing Cutey

Posted on August 8, 2025 by Tina

I initially planned to title this post ‘Bathing Beauty’ but realized that title was boring and obvious, and didn’t adequately describe the bird images I wanted to use. I mean, look at this silly goober.

The juvenile Northern Mockingbird, Mimus polyglottos, will become a beauty when older and dryer, but for this particular moment in time, in its wet-n-wild state, it’s a goofy, floofy, cutey bird.

The young Mockingbird, as well as a couple of its elders, have spent time in the back garden recently. Typically, I don’t see many mocks in my back garden, the exception to that observation being during native plant berry season, which has arrived.

American Beauty Berry, Callicarpa americana, is getting its purple on with each passing day. You might notice that not all the berries have gotten the message to change their hues, but enough of the clusters are trading their green for the outrageous purple of maturity and birds have noticed–and noshed.

My two Roughleaf Dogwood trees, Cornus drummondii, also sport berries, though their signature ripe color, creamy white, hasn’t yet appeared. That lack of color change, with its indication of full ready-to-eat ripeness, isn’t stopping the Mockingbirds, European Starlings, or Blue Jays from plucking and gulping, as I’ve observed all three species feeding on the green berries. I guess it’s similar to my eating a peach that isn’t quite ripe, still a little hard, but so delicious that I just can’t help myself.

I hope these resident birds will leave a few fruits for the migratory birds, but there’s probably enough for all who are interested. Besides, the Possumhaw and Yaupon Hollies will be adding their fruit selections to the garden menu in the not-too-distant future.

So bathe away, cutey Mockingbird–and make sure to get your share of the garden snacks!

A Lone Lily

Posted on July 16, 2025 by Tina

While heavy rain in Central Texas has produced horrific tragedy in certain areas, it’s also filled our reservoirs and my garden has benefited as well. Before the wet arrived, I’d returned from a trip to New Mexico, thrilled that my unwatered Texas garden looked so lush after time spent in a beautiful, but more arid, landscape. Then the rain came and the lush garden doubled-down on foliage and bloom production. This mid-July, flowers are flourishing and pollinators are beside themselves with the abundance.

Along with the floriforous summer perennials, this lone Hill Country Rain lily, Cooperia pedunculata, popped up recently amongst some Mexican Feathergrass, Nassella tenuissima. I purchased bulbs some years ago, planting them deep in the dirt, as the front garden offered little hope for enough sun to make the plants happy. There were blooms for a time, then there weren’t; it’s been a few years since rain lilies were a part of my garden.

I’m fairly sure this lily is the C. pedunculata, because I remember the bulbs being labeled Zephyranthes drummondii–which is a synonym. These sweet flowers appear after significant rain along urban and rural roadsides and patches of undisturbed land. They bloom, then set their charcoal, papery seeds, which are dropped forthwith or carried by the breezes to other places. Their stems retreat to the soil, new stalks with their single blooms reappearing at some later date, after another rainfall.

In a recent post profiling his stunning photos of rain lilies, Steve of Portraits of Wildflowers asked, in response to my comment about his photos, if I’d ever gathered seeds of this flower. The answer is ‘yes’ and I suspect that this recent lily gift is the result of one of the seeds from years ago. I don’t recall planting a bulb in this spot, though it’s possible that I did, but I do recall scattering seeds in the back garden.

I’ll let the seeds from this flower mature, and when ready, I will–with intention–scatter them, though most likely in my front garden, rather than the shadier back garden.

I might also buy more bulbs. Is it possible to have too many rain lilies gracing a newly rained-on garden?