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.

Poverty Weed and Goldenrod

Two, new-to-my-garden native plants popped up this season, whether gifts from wind or wildlife, I won’t hazard a guess, but I’m pleased nonetheless. I was excited when I spotted the resplendent blooms of a Goldenrod, Solidago gigantea.

I then recognized its frothy neighbor, a Poverty Weed, Baccharis neglecta.

The plants actually belong to my neighbor and sister-in-law, as they’ve grown up at the base of the remains of her large Arizona Ash, which is now mostly bark, but full of life with insects and perching birds. I had no idea these two were plotting to play a role in the ensemble of the garden because they’ve been situated between my SIL’s tree and a group of my plants, including a large Plateau Goldeneye, Viguiera dentata, some Turk’s Cap, Malvaviscus arboreus, and a Mexican Orchid tree, Bauhinia mexicana, and so weren’t noticed until each grew tall enough and flowered bodaciously enough to demand attention.

Both plants’ blooms are providing plenty for pollinators; mostly I’ve seen bees.

In this photo, just north of the smeary honeybee, you can see a tiny, dark native bee. To the right of that bee, is another native, either bee or beetle, I’m not quite sure.

The Poverty Weed’s mass of snowy blooms reaches over a cluster of Goldeneye flowers; bees zip between the two plants.

Photos of the small flowers have been tricky, due to wind, rain, and photographer limitations, but in this photo, there are several tiny black insects–all native bees.

This honeybee is a giant compared to the little natives nectaring, but both species are enjoying the bounty.

I’m always tickled when new plants make their home in my garden and I appreciate observing and learning about them. I will need to cull any seedlings that these two produce (and there will be some…or plenty), but I welcome these native pollinator plants full of charm and beauty and appreciate their contribution to the diversity of my garden.

Yellow

There’s yellow,

…and then there’s yellow!

Autumn migration is in full swing! Year in and year out, a most dependable visitor to my gardens during both spring and autumn migrations are the eponymous Yellow Warbler, Setophaga petechia. Flitty, flighty birds, these little darlings are a treat to see. I nearly always have birds of both genders stop in for a time; sometime they come as couples, often, they visit separately.

A female Yellow Warbler bopped around the Rough-leaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, growing near the pond. I planted this small native tree in this particular spot to give both resident and migratory birds a quick hiding place up and away from the pond. It also offers creamy fall fruits for noshing, if that’s on a bird’s menu.

Ms. Yellow used the foliage wisely, cautiously peeking out before her forays to the pond.

There are plenty of spots for tired, hot, thirsty birds to settle in for a drink and a fluttery bath.

Later, her mate, or maybe a random Yellow dude on the same travel path, came by to check out the water feature.

In the avian world, the male birds are nearly always brighter and more colorful than their female partners. The Yellow Warbler male also rocks rusty streaking on its chest which the females lack.

The Yellow Warblers are heading to Central America and parts of South America, along with millions of other birds. They have treacherous travels ahead before they land in their wintering quarters. My garden, especially the pond, provides safety and respite for the stalwart wanderers and the maintenance of a wildlife habitat is a responsibility I’ve wholeheartedly accepted. Wildlife-friendly gardens are necessary in a world where buildings, roads, sterile lawns, and all manner of urbanization has damaged and reduced the natural world.