Clematis and Milkweeds, welcome to the family…

One of my favorite “flowers” is the female Clematis drummondii which is most noticeable in the late summer as the achenes turn into cascades of clouds that give it one of its common names, Old Man’s Beard. The actual flower is shown in the first photo following, the achenes in the other two:

Another favorite plant is Matelea reticulata, commonly known as Pearl Milkweed Vine, due to the “pearl” in the middle of its flower. It, too, is native to Central Texas, where I no longer reside, having “pulled up roots” to move a bit further to the North.

I was pleasantly surprised to find, recently, a different Clematis, native to Central Oklahoma. Clematis terniflora, or Autumn Clematis, as it’s commonly known, is smaller than its Texas cousin, but still provides striking clouds of white flowers and achenes along the roadsides and in ditches. In this case, the flowers provide the show, and the achenes are less showy than those of C. drummondii, as seen in the third photo following:

Cynanchum laeve, common name Honey Milkweed Vine, has been observed in several locations around here, notably near the airport and a few miles away. As suggested by the common name, the flowers give off a strong, sweet smell attractive to humans and pollinators alike.

While they’re not the same species one has become accustomed to, the “new” species are familiar enough to provide a sense of a welcoming environment.

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Monarchs and Queens

Danaus plexippus - Monarch

This year has been a strange one for Monarchs in my backyard.

Usually I just get a few Monarchs passing through in the Spring and Fall Monarch migrations. My geographic location is on the Southern edge of the pathway usually taken as the Monarchs pass from Mexico into Texas, mostly between Del rio and Eagle Pass, and then spreading out in a pie wedge or fan shaped flight plan spread across the US Midwest and up to the Northeast US and even into Canada.

This year, I have seen at least one Monarch every month since March 27, through September 1st, though I wasn’t able to capture photographs of all of them. It appears that the Monarchs have either been staying around the neighborhood, or they lay some eggs, head on their way, and the newly hatched adults do a little egg laying before heading up North as well.

It is difficult to say which is the case.But I can show you some of them: (Click on the thumbnail for a larger view).

We’ll see how many come through the yard in September and October.

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August: the heat goes on… But if you plant it, they will come.

But not as hot here in Central Texas as it is elsewhere, and not as hot as it has been in recent years, when there were streaks of thirty or forty days of 100 plus Fahrenheit weather. This year has been hot but humid – hey, the moisture from the melting ice caps has to go somewhere, right?

And yet, “Mother Nature” continues to give us native plants that thrive in whatever kind of weather and climate she gives us. Or we make for her, given that the current climate change is driven by the Industrial Revolution, which began some two hundred years or so past.

The Conoclinium greggii (Gregg’s Mistflower) will bring Queen and Monarch butterflies to your yard. It has been interesting to watch the Queens defend their territory against the one or two Monarchs that attempt to get a pheromone enhancing boost from the mistflowers.

 I’ve even seen a Gulf Fritillary take a break from the Passion Flowers and go after the mistflowers.(click on photos in the gallery to see them full size).

Well, this didn’t start out as an orange and black butterfly identification post, but that’s where it ended up, it seems. Go figure.

As you plant more native plants, you will find that you attract more native wildlife (and, hopefully ,fewer exotic or invasive fauna).

Sitting on the steps of the deck before dinner, as I took several of thee photos, the line from Ray Bolger’s character in The Wizard of Oz came to mind: “I could while away the hours, conversing with the flowers…”

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The native Texas April yard/garden…

IF you live in Central Texas, of course. While many plants (including some native plants) are still trying to recover from what I have heard called Winter Storm Uri, which lasted for about ten days back in mid-February, 2021, most of the plants native to this region of Texas are coming back strong, or putting out blooms already.

Mexican Plum (Prunus mexicana) has already flowered and started putting out leaves. Giant Spiderwort (Tradescantia gigantea) has for the most part finished with its most robust blooms, but there are still a few left. (Both of these photos were taken March 16, 2021).

.Prunus mexicana - Mexican PlumTradescantia gigantea

A little over two weeks later, things are really starting to perk up in the yard.

Bignonia capreolata - Crossvine Coral Honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) Lupinus texensis - Texas Bluebonnet Crossvine (Bignonia capreolata), for instance, and Coral Honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) which are both favored by Hummingbirds are blooming in profusion, as are the Texas Bluebonnets (Lupinus texensis).

And then there are the Tetraneuris scaposa.which will bloom all year round if you let them, or keep on trimming off the deadheads, so that they can. These are perennials, but short lived, so after a few years you might have to replace them – or they might have spread and created new copies on their own.

Tetraneuris scaposa - Four Nerve Daisy

Oenothera speciosa - "Pink Ladies"

Oenothera speciosa – “Pink Ladies”

And, just to get this out there, Oenothera speciosa, known as Pink Primroses or Pink Ladies, are blooming currently. I have seen some popping up in neighbors’ yards that are otherwise mowed too short and devoid of any other native Texas plants. But thankfully, they haven’t mowed down the Pink Ladies. 

I will mention, but not add photos of Blue eyed grass, Cobea and Gulf Penstemons,  Mealy Blue Sage, Wright’s Skullcap, and a few others. The month of April is nearly over, The US Senate has unanimously voted to name April 2021 as National Native Plant Month, and there are invasive plants in my backyard and. beyond that need to be cut down before they go to seed. Oh, and the Rain Lilies have started popping up, finally after several days of light rain.

Hasta luego.

Gone to seed, fruits, or berries, mostly…

Took a walk out in the woods, in the middle of the summer, to see if the Phemeranthus calycinus aka Rock Pink, might be in bloom, since we had had several days of rain prior. No such luck. There had been at least 20 specimens in the immediate area about four years ago, and earlier this year I found one in bloom, but even the Bitterweed (Helenium amarum) seemed to be scorched, for the most part, although I did take a photo of one that wasn’t, and some grasses. (For an article describing the flower I was looking for, and some photos, see Stalking the ephemeral Rock-Pink).

The area I’ve dubbed “Lace Cactus Lane” because of its concentration of Echinocereus species, was in fairly decent condition. And a pass through the area I call “Vine Street” revealed some Pearl Milkweed Vine (Matelea reticulata) pods dried and open, as well as some Carolina Snailseed (Cocculus carolinus), starting to put out its berries. Of course, there was the usual Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans), Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia ) and Sevenleaf Creeper (Parthenocissus heptophylla). And I took a few shots of the Bearded Swallow-Wort vine (Cynanchum barbigerum) just to illustrate the way it braids itself along whatever is supporting it.

A bit closer to home, Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) were in bloom,  as were Texas Lantana (Lantana urticoides) , Apache Plume (Fallugia paradoxa), Gregg’s Mistflower (Conoclinium greggii), Mealy Blue Sage (Salvia farinacea), Skeleton-leaf Golden-eye (Viguiera stenoloba),  Four-nerve daisies (Tetraneuris sp.), Flame acanthus  (Anisacanthus quadrifidus), Autumn Sage (Salvia greggii), and Manzanilla (better known by the name Turk’s Cap, and rarely called Texas Red Mallow)(Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii). Even the Wild petunia (Ruellia nudiflora) has been putting out blooms lately, and the Yellow Passion Flower (Passiflora lutea) seems to have just recently finished its latest cycle.

Which leads to a mention of the life cycle of the Gulf Fritillary (Agraulis vanillae) butterflies, which have tried their best but haven’t succeeded in stripping the Passiflora vines completely this year. Given that it is safe to speculate that the suburban subdivision where I reside has little habitat for these beautiful pollinators, one can only hope that my little nursery is keeping the local population going.

In the heat of the summer

I seem to suffer from Gilligan’s Syndrome – what starts out as a five minute walk outside to water the plants in their containers that I am hoping will hold on until cooler weather comes (September? October?) turns into an hour or more photo safari. Sometimes I go beyond the confines of my yard, sometimes not.

Ruellia nudiflora, for instance, has suddenly been blooming like crazy. A Passiflora incarnata volunteer popped up in the mulched bed across from the Passiflora lutea and Passiflora suberosa, and started putting out blooms. The Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii continue to bloom, as do the Salvia greggii, Lantana urticoides, Scutellarria wrightii, Salvia farinacea, and Conoclinium greggii. In the “nursery,” several Asclepias milkweeds have bloomed or budded, along with Tetraneuris scaposa. In the gravel pathway, I had to (reluctantly) trim the Boerhavia coccinea back to allow human passage. The Fallugia paradoxa has put out a few blooms and plumes, and the Pavonia lasiopetala has been a pleasant surprise with its hibiscus-like pink blossoms.

We have Liatris punctata still in bloom, Melampodium leucanthum, Asclepias texana, and a native grass that I have been calling “Indian Grass,” (turns out that is the common name for Sorghum nutans. The Aloysia gratissima has attracted pollinators, as has the Anisacanthus quadrifidus, and behind the fence, the Proboscidea louisianica or “Devil’s Claw,” has held out with a bloom or two. The Glandularia bipinnatifida has come up in various spots, too low for the mowers’ blades most of the time. As can be seen in some of the photos, these native plants of Texas, most of which are not receiving any supplemental watering, provide food for Bumblebees, butterflies, and even hummingbirds, lizards, and wasps. I even went out and over the course of several days, harvested enough Diospyros texana fruit to make a Texas Persimmon Loaf. The slide show that follows includes photos taken the week of August 10 – 16, 2020

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A mid-Summer’s nightmare

I have seen the best plants of my eco-region driven into ghettos of greenbelts, invaded by non-native plants, poisoned with herbicides…

I see public areas, along roadways and in park areas, mowed so low that the grass is turning brown and burnt by the sun, despite sprinklers and watering, and occasional rains brought on from sub-tropical weather disturbances in the Gulf of Mexico.

I see the berm behind my house, where a stand of wildflowers in bloom had been cut down in late May while the ground was still wet, and where the native Silver Bluestem grass, which had once dominated the berm, had returned, mowed down in late July, parched and sere under the August sun. Because the contracts signed say they have to mow a certain number of times within certain calendar limits.

I have written emails to my HOA and the Municipal Utility District, and received no response. If a tree falls in the forest, or a native plant goes extinct or disappears from a region because of destruction of habitat, does it make a sound if there are no humans to hear it cry out?

And yet, life goes on.

I have seen the Clematis drummondii, with their achenes in showy white plumes, and must make a note to get out of the house for a photo safari soon, while this year’s show is still on. I have seen the Passiflora  vines and the Gulf Fritillary butterflies in their back and forth movements between fertilization, egg-laying, larvae consuming the plant, and adult butterflies dancing about. I have seen the native plants in my yard, both those intentionally planted, and those volunteers who have been recognized and protected, thrive or at least survive.

And I have seen the birds drinking from the water fountain, having been provided with plants that provide food (and insects that thrive and provide food as well), shelter, and a place to build their homes. I have seen the hummingbirds zooming about, grabbing sips of nectar from the salvias, the Texas Red Mallows, and the Flame Acanthus (though this year, I’m afraid I haven’t quick enough to focus and click on the camera quickly enough to capture one in mid-flight.

And as the globe warms, I wonder what changes I’ll be seeing in the plants that thrive in this area, and whether enough humans will start to think outside the box of “that’s the way we’ve always done it,” or “that’s the I’ve always heard it should be,” to make a dent in the greenhouse we are living in.

But enough of that. Time for some photos – some OK, some not so great, but the subject matter supersedes this one’s talents: