Count the Spots

Posted on March 27, 2026 by Tina

A few weeks ago as I strolled through my front garden, I noticed activity in the large group of Burford Holly, Ilex cornuta ‘Burfordii’, shrubs that I planted decades ago along the side of our garage. Not a native to Texas, this plant is nonetheless a tough, xeric evergreen and a good wildlife plant. Mockingbirds and Bluejays have nested in the dense foliage during many a spring breeding season. Other birds, like migratory warblers and native Carolina Wrens busily bop around the tangle limbs hunting insects. Each late winter, hordes of Cedar Waxwings descend upon the shrubs devouring the ripe red berries in an orgy of eating, stripping the shrubs of those fruits within one day and leaving beet red bird poop splatters on the driveway and any car parked nearby. Our honeybees are fond of the tiny flowers that bloom in March.

On the morning of the stroll I noticed flitty movement by quite a few winged things. A group of Eight-spotted Forester Months, Alypia octomaculata, were enjoying the bounty of the Burfords as the tiny flowers were abloom. It was hard to photograph these pretty moths, as they were rarely still for more than a few seconds.

Strikingly beautiful, these moths are mostly black with white and cream spots, blueish-green bands rest on either side at the top of their heads, and dabs of orange bulge on their legs. I first mistook the orange spots as some sort of mothy corbiculae, but no, the orange is decorative, or most likely has some other evolutionary purpose.

You can see four of the spots on this moth’s wing, but can you count all eight?

There we are! Eight spots are visible in this photo, some are creamy yellow, others are white.

The moths’ visit was brief–I didn’t see them again after that morning. They are a common moth, living in most parts of the Continental US and also the southern part of Canada. As well, in the link at the top of this post you’ll see the map of these moths’ homes and that there are Eight-spotted Foresters in Greenland and along the West Coast of Africa.

I grow Virginia Creeper, Parthenocissus quinquefolia, which is the host plant for this moth species, but I don’t recall ever seeing any caterpillars on the foliage. Moths and butterflies (and other insects) evolved alongside plants, and plants where insects lay their eggs are called host plants. When you see foliage munched, it usually means some insect’s offspring are eating and there’s no reason to panic or grab some noxious poison, it’s how a healthy ecosystem works. A vibrant ecosystem requires no chemicals to upset nature’s fine-tuned balance.

I’ve seen Eight-spotted Foresters before, but they’re certainly not regular visitors to my garden. I’m glad they came this March; it’s always good renew an acquaintance.

Early Spring Things

Posted on March 12, 2026 by Tina

Longer days are bright with sunshine, interrupted occasionally by appreciated rainfall; the spring blooming season is here. With each passing day, sprouts emerge, previously shy blooms unfold, and the landscape’s winter muted tones segue to varieties of green, sparkling with rainbow colors. On a recent cloudy, humid early morning a few spring things caught my eyes.

Crossvine, Bignonia capreolata, is an early blooming vine here in Central Texas. Though the flowers were ready for them, pollinators were scarce; it was too early and too flush with the promise of rain. Orange-yellow flowers are open for pollinators and will bloom, at least for a time. In my garden, native bees are prime visitors to these pretties.

Crossvine doesn’t have a long bloom season. There is the initial, which lasts a few weeks, then usually a second crop later in spring. I see scattered blooms throughout summer.

My very old Texas Mountain Laurel, Dermatophyllum secundiflorum, is on its way out of this life. Most of the top portions are bare, dead wood, but at the base where most of the foliage resides, a flush of blooms have danced their way to opening, purple bliss in color, grape soda in fragrance. The Laurel was one of the first things I planted decades ago and its been in decline for a while.

I’m pleased with my Laurel’s purple clusters this spring and the flowers are in sync with other laurels; all around Austin the Texas Mountain Laurels have been especially gorgeous these past weeks. I guess they really do like drought! I won’t remove the tree until all hope of foliage and flowers is gone as birds like to perch on the branches for safety, squirrels like to nibble their meals up in the tree, and the gardener admires the old tree’s legacy and hardiness.

I love the unwieldy, silver-leafed Wooly Butterflybush, Buddleja marrubiifolia. Throughout the year, it stands as a signature specimen, a welcome change from greens in the garden. Interestingly, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center’s link mentions that the shrub is deciduous (looses its leaves during winter) and needs protection from hard freezes. Not so, mine! I’ve never protected it from any of our sporadic hard freezes and it stands full and grey/silver in all weather. It’s located facing west and near the street, so may it sit in a warmer micro-climate and is thus protected and ever full of foliage.

The Butterflybush’s darling petite flowers perch on terminal balls and attracts many kinds of butterflies, big and small. I typically see the pollinators for this plant later in the year.

Another rangy plant which is a neighbor to the Butterflybush, are two specimens of Agarita, Mahonia trifoliolata. I’ve always wanted Agarita in my garden and finally planted these two 5 years ago when my front area became full sun. Each has grown apace, producing early yellow blooms for bees, followed by yummy fruits for birds and mammals. Humans also enjoy the berries, which can be made into wine and jelly, though this human is glad to leave the fruits for the critters.

The small flowers are honey-sweet and attract honey and native bees. The only thing I don’t like about the Agarita are its spikey, ouchy, leathery leaves! I’m not a fan of plants that hurt, but I’ve made an exception for the worthy Agarita!

A super early bloomer this spring is one of the annual Blue Curls (or Caterpillars), Phacelia congesta. I have gobs of these annual spring wildflowers that re-seed themselves, but they don’t usually bloom until late March or April. Popular with the pollinators, I’m always amazed at the great variety that show up when these cute things are blooming. If you look carefully, you can see what look like two ants in one of the top blooms. I can’t tell from the photo, but it’s possible that these insects are tiny native bees. Once the blooms set their tiny seeds, migrating birds munch those seeds and help spread these beauties to other places. I see volunteer Blue Curl plants all over my neighborhood in lawns. Sadly, I’m sure most of those plants are mowed down well before growing tall enough to bloom.

Iris blooms are ubiquitous to spring gardens everywhere and mine have begun their frilly floral presentations this week. I don’t know the variety as these bulbs were here in the garden when we moved in. In addition to being lovely and large flowers, they are a fragrant addition to the garden.

Our winters are short and not too difficult, save for a week here, or week there. Even so, when the green-n-color production begins, it’s hard not to be grateful for nature’s cycles and bounty. Spring is all about renewal and life, so go outside and enjoy!

First Spring Wildflower

Posted on February 20, 2026 by Tina

Riffing on first Texas wildflower blooms profiled at Portraits of Wildflowers, I noticed that my garden’s first wildflower is abloom. This wildflower is a common weed according to some, but I love the pretty, purple, pollinator magnet and so do the bees and butterflies. Insects were tucked in this morning, owing to the chill and clouds, but they’ll find this rich source of nectar and pollen when the sun returns and the temperatures warm.

This Spiderwort, Tradescantia, sp., has popped up from last years’ roots at the base of a winter-tawny Big Muhly, Muhlenbergia lindheimeri. That splash of green has been a colorful companion to the muted grass since early December. Now, the green will be topped by rich purple to augment its beauty.

The spiderworts couldn’t have chosen a tougher place to plant themselves. Facing west, these two clusters sit at the curb, not even in the garden-proper. I never water this area, it only receives what bounty the sky delivers. There will be more spiderwort blooms in the coming months–from these two and many others throughout my garden–then the foliage will disappear, the roots in hiding from the long, hot summer. The muhly will provide some coverage, as new growth drapes over the curb and spiderworts’ spot, but this area is hot and dry most of the year.

It has begun, this renewal of life. Birds and squirrels chase their potential partners and rivals; flirtation as the rule of the first kind of chase, establishing territory the point of the second. The main winter clean-up work in my garden is finished, or nearly so, and change in the garden will be a daily, if not hourly, occurrence. Game-on, Spring!