Tag Archives: Wildlife Gardening

Some Backyard Birds

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Throughout the seasons, it’s fun and educational to watch backyard birds. Winter-to-late spring brings a wider variety of feathered friends and with each day marching toward spring breeding season, avian activity ramps up. Over-wintering, migratory birds have settled in, as much as they will do, until their need to breed becomes so demanding that the birds set forth northward to their nesting sites.

This season there are at least three Orange-crowned Warblers, Leiothlypis celata, visiting my garden each day. Sometimes, all three are perched in bare shrubs and trees, sometimes they’re chasing one another, and sometimes one–or all three–are at the feeders, gobbling up the good stuff. 

I’m not sure whether this cutey is a male or female; it never turned just so, to allow me a good enough look at a possible masculine orange dab atop its little head. But it ate contentedly, the seed cylinder being a popular spot for many birds, including all three of the Orange-crowned Warblers.

So far this winter, only one female Yellow-rumped Warbler, Setophaga coronata, has visited the garden. She likes peanuts and the offerings from the seed cylinder, 

…but she also forages along the ground. The yellow rump has not presented itself for a decent photo, but stay tuned, because at some point I’ll get a chance to document that butter butt.

This Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Corthylio calendula, bopped along the bare limb of one of the Red Oak trees, pausing just long enough for me to snag a shot. These are tiny, flitty birds, which I see only in winter. They don’t visit feeders often, but enjoy nibbling small insects on trees and shrubs. Males sport a truly ruby-red tuft of feathers which they’ll show when flirting with females or mansplaining to other males. I don’t know if this one is a male, its ruby feathers weren’t visible. The kinglet’s tiny size and wing bars, not to mention its endearing face, are other reliable identifiers of this bird.

Red-winged Blackbirds, Agelaius phoeniceus, are spring to early summer visitors, but a crew with a couple of males and several females have been hanging around the garden. This attractive female sat still for a moment, taking a break from her meal of seeds and nuts.

White-winged Doves are ubiquitous in Austin’s urban settings, including my garden. They’re here. Lots of them. Year-round. Maybe because they’re so common, I’m not interested in them, but I’m also not particularly fond of them; I refer to them as rats with wings. But during winter Mourning Doves, Zenaida macroura, like these two sweethearts, hang out in the garden on warm, clear days, sunbathing and pecking at what has dropped on the ground from the trees and feeders. These rarer (to my garden) birds are most welcome.

Black-crested Titmice, Baeolophus atricristatus, are year-round resident birds, singing melodically and favoring the peanut and sunflower seeds. 

In winter, after leaf drop, it’s easier to spy these diminutive, darling birds. There are not many critters more charming than a titmouse.

Woodpeckers have returned; they’re scarce during autumn, after babies are raised and fledged. Parents need a break, I guess. Recently, I’ve enjoyed the antics of three Downy Woodpeckers, Dryobates pubescens: two females (like this one) and one male, who sports a bright red hat. I often hear the Downies well before I spot them in the Red Oak trees.

The Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Melanerpes carolinus, are also around this February. This pretty boy, and sometimes a female, enjoy the peanuts I offer. They’re particularly shy around me, but once they’re on the feeders, they defend their meal-time munchies, even from bullying Blue Jays. 

You’ll notice that the head is red, but the bird is named after its belly–where there is a blush of red, not seen in this photo. There exists a Red-headed Woodpecker and it lives in this area, though I’ve never seen one in my garden. I’m still waiting and watching…

This ruddy male House Finch, Haemorhous mexicanus, peeks around the safflower feeder at me, while the sunshine yellow male Lesser Goldfinch, Spinus psaltria, glances shyly away from the camera. Lesser Goldfinches come and go in my garden throughout the year. They enjoy the seeds of Plateau Goldeneye and common sunflowers, but they visit the safflower or sunflower seed feeders if they fancy a less foliaged dining spot. This Lesser, along with his ruddy buddy House Finch, certainly add cheery spots of color in the otherwise muted winter garden.

It’s easier to notice male House Finches, though not because they’re more common than the females, but because they’re more colorful. That said, I think the females are adorable, if more subtly colored.

Look at that winsome face! House Finches are some of my favorite birds, and fortunately for my backyard bird watching, always around. They’re social and chatty birds, visiting with one another as they eat. Honestly, they never shut up!

Other birds have come into the garden, too. The neighborhood Cooper’s Hawk and Red Tail Hawks swoop through from time-to-time. Sadly, my Eastern Screech Owl(s) are gone and I’m disappointed; I’ll miss (yet again!) their beautiful early morning trilling and their enchanting chicks, but there are other Screeches in my neighborhood who are settling in to their nest boxes. Hopefully, I’ll be able to observe their families. 

European Starlings and Monk Parakeets have visited, neither of which I’m crazy about. I like the Monks: they’re beautiful and entertaining–total clowns–but they hog the safflower feeder. They’re not bullies like the starlings, but they scare all the smaller birds due to their size and their refusal to leave the feeders once they’ve started eating. The also make a bit of a mess…

With each passing day, I’m adding more seeds and peanuts to the feeders. I’m hearing more calls and bird son, and witnessing more bird activity. Winter is still a thing, but it’s clear to me that spring is not too far away and I think wildlife knows that too!

Roughleaf Dogwood (Cornus drummondii): A Seasonal Look

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I became enamored with Texas native Roughleaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, during the time I managed the Green Garden at Austin’s Zilker Botanical Gardens. I knew about “Texas” dogwood, an understory small tree or shrub which blooms in spring and produces white fall fruits, but I had never planted one of my own. Nor did I originally pay attention to the stunning specimen situated in the woodlands plants section of the Green Garden, set back from the formal pathway. I recall the golden leaves which brightened the dogwoods’ limbs, and then the ground below it, during the December after I was hired. But it was in spring that the puffs of creamy dogwood flowers really caught my attention. Snowy floret clusters gracefully adorned the slender limbs of the Zilker dogwood, the little tree set off from a well-worn path to another Zilker garden, nonetheless demanding attention from passersby.

I was smitten.

I mulled purchasing my own little dogwood, but a gardening friend (thanks Deb!) gifted to me a seedling C drummondii from her Westlake garden. I planted my baby dogwood in the center-back section of my back perennial garden. Eager for it to grow up, I waited. And waited. Truthfully, it didn’t do much in the growth department until I removed a tired, old Tacoma stans ‘Esperanza’ that had been, for many years, the main actor in that garden and whose size hampered the growth of the dogwood. Once Tacoma was gone from the garden, the Roughleaf Dogwood grew apace and came into its own. 

I eventually added a second dogwood, purchased from a local nursery, and placed it at the back of the pond. 

A summer vignette from 2019, the two young dogwoods circled. Beloved Nuri the Cat checks out the fish in the pond.
December 2021 with early “autumn” color; the dogwoods have grown.

Since then, I’ve practiced botanical pay-it-forward by digging up and gifting my own dogwood starts to other eager dogwood lovers, plus I’ve planted one more in a different part of the back garden.

Roughleaf Dogwood is deciduous, which means leaves drop after the first freezes of the winter season. Multi-limbed with slim, spidery appendages, the tree can be prune for shape according to human preferences.

As I’m an admirer of nature’s evolutionary practices, I don’t typically prune much on my dogwoods, unless an extremity is nudging up against another plant in a way I find bothersome. Years ago, I’d read that dogwoods had a tendency to colonize out in a garden situation. In its first decade (under the shadow of the T. stans) that was never a problem. But as my first dogwood has matured, there are root-bound outreaches of new trunks.

Some of these I’ve dug up and either gifted or composted, but the ones near the original trunk I’ve let remain. Any that pop up further away from the mother plant I prune back to the soil once or twice each year; newbie trunks are easily spotted in winter. I could dig them out, but they’re a bit too deep-rooted for my back to handle, so it’s a snip-to-the-top-soil for these potentially pesky wannabee trees. If you have a larger space, let them go to grow, bloom, set fruit and be dogwoods. According to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, various songbirds nest in dogwood thickets, so that’s a great reason for allowing thickets to develop–if you have the space. But for those in more restrictive urban plots, some management of dogwood enthusiasm is a must.

In early spring, usually March, the first, verdant leaves appear: tiny, bright green and delicate. Often, the branchlets that held last season’s flowers and fruits are still attached to the awakening tree. 

The spring green leaves make a statement about the longer and warmer days settling in. 

Oak pollen decorates the newly emerged dogwood leaves.

Flower clusters follow, though they take time to develop to the point of offering open blooms for feeding wildlife and admiration by humans. 

The flowers are constantly visited by a wide variety of pollinators. 

I see a multitude of flies and native bees on my flowers. Honeybees and skippers are also frequent sippers of the nectar provided. Sometimes, butterflies rest on the foliage.

The bloom season lasts into May for my two plants. 

Hot summer months see the dogwoods as lush and green, water-wise, and a good place for birds to rest. 

Yellow Warbler, Setophaga petechia, resting in the dogwood after a splash in the pond.

By late August/early September, luscious, creamy fruits are available for both resident and migratory birds.

I’ve mostly witnessed Blue Jays and Northern Mockingbirds at the berries, but they’re sneaky about nibbling while successfully hiding behind branches and clusters of leaves. 

Usually by late fall, no fruits are left on either of my dogwoods; this is when foliage color show commences. Shorter days and a couple of light freezes trigger dogwood foliage color changes, and is always reliably lovely. Typically, the early foliage color are yellows and pastels.

In time and with ongoing cold temperatures, deep burgundy covers many leaves, the dramatic colors remaining until leaf drop.

January and February bring bare dogwoods.

Bare limbs allow for easier bird watching.

Black-crested Titmouse, Baeolophus atricristatus  

Roughleaf Dogwood is native not only in Texas, but throughout a wide swath of the United States and also in Ontario, Canada. I’ve never experienced any disease or insect issues with either of my trees and drainage hasn’t been an issue. Roughleaf Dogwood is a tough plant which remains lush and green throughout our hot, long summers.  It is not deer resistant.

If you have the room in your garden, plant this lovely small tree or shrub. Roughleaf Dogwood is an ideal urban native plant. It’s easy to grow, provides for wildlife and is an attractive plant.

In Spring:

Summer:

Autumn:

Winter:

Winter Fat

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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.