Welcome!

Welcome to austinagrodolce … My family and I garden with more intention and enthusiasm than allocated budget or overall design plan. It shows. Wildlife populations don't seem to notice our lack of cohesive design, they just like the native plants here. It seems by growing local we've thrown out a welcome mat. Occasionally, we're surprised at who (and what) shows up.



Showing posts with label Coral Honeysuckle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coral Honeysuckle. Show all posts

Monday, April 21, 2014

Apropos of April

I never seem to get organized in time to participate in variously occurring "days" where garden bloggers show off what is blooming at regular intervals (or in other cases, what their foliage stars are up to). I applaud those who do so.  I openly admit that sort of advance planning is not one of my strengths. 

Regardless, there is a lot going on in our spaces this time of year.  At the risk of being designated a "petal pusher" (I'm looking at you, DC!) and apropos of nothing more than April itself?  Here's what's been grabbing most of the local attention lately.
This Grass Spider (Agelenidae) is apparently suffering from an identity crisis as it spent all day posing on the pink evening primrose (Oenothera speciosa).

Coral honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens) has rewarded me for cutting back overhanging branches with an abundance of scarlet trumpets.

This stray cat has adopted our garden spaces.  We keep her well fed and I can gratefully report no signs of bird predation on her part, though she does find the water in the birdbath especially flavorful.
The Hub carefully repots and sets out his growing collection of Plumeria alba plants annually.  This anole (Anolis carolinensis) will be disappointed they've been moved to their summertime spot in the back as he was a regular sun bather out front in the afternoons.
This Corn Poppy (Papaver rhoeas or Flanders poppy) is not very deer resistant but I have hopes it will freely reseed so Bambi's periodic chomp-pruning won't keep me from having a few blooms each year.
The Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) was designated the official state bird of Texas in 1927.  This one serenades the entire neighborhood from various perches in the tops of the oak trees.   Occasionally he'll set up in trees close to a street light on our corner and sing all night long.  All.  Night.  Long.
Yellow Coneflower (Ratibida pinnata - I think) glows in the morning sun.

Another singer in the local oaks - a black crested titmouse (Baeolophus atricristatus)
A consistent favorite of local gardeners and birds alike - Possumhaw Holly (Ilex decidua).
I realize Pyracantha coccinea is now considered invasive, but this one has been growing here since before we moved in and has reached considerable size and thorniness.  The birds love it and as long as I don't have any work to do in the bed close by, I do too.
It can look pretty sketchy off season, but it is hard to beat Damianita Chrysactinia mexicana) in bloom.
I wish these two were more seasonally synchronized, but at least I've got one "late" bluebonnet playing nicely with an "early" Salvia coccinea.
Mexican honeysuckle (Justicia specigera) growing in between paddles of Opuntia ellisiana.
The delicate bloom stalk of Provence Lavender (Lavandula Intermedia which grows well here in Texas), highlighted against a backdrop of Damianita.
With a promise of blooms to come, Opuntia ellisiana, or spineless prickly pear, is setting out rows of buds.
Those are most certainly the highlights of our garden spaces so far this April. Happy Earth Day 2014 (hey - I can plan ahead!) and thanks as always for dropping by.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Gardening Stubborn

This is not a good time of year for me to be outdoors.  While I'm not sensitized to cedar, I am reduced to a sodden dripping mess once live oak pollen season arrives. And according to the accumulating carpet of fallen leaves all around our house, that time is right now.

That doesn't mean I don't take measures.  I so do.  We load up pristine filters to our air intake grids for the season.  We keep doors and windows closed no matter how pleasant the temperatures.  I stock up on tissues. I take daily over-the-counter tablets designed to tamp down my pollen response without rendering me unconscious.  I stay indoors.

Mostly.

Every year around October I attempt to seed in a patch of bluebonnets of sufficient dimensions to be safely viewed from indoors the following March. This visual satisfaction is meant to be garnered from the house, through closed windows, where the air is not industriously ferrying prodigious amounts of pollen to assist in the attempts to make oak tree babies. Not to mention the collateral damage done to my breathing bits.

And every year, there comes a bright and breezy March afternoon when I can no longer resist.  I decide consequences be damned, I simply MUST get out close enough to watch the bees at work in the blooms.  So I do.

And I did.  Naturally I took my camera with me, hopeful I could grab a few shots to display on my computer that would help keep me safely, happily indoors, as the pollen counts continue to climb.  That said, me being me, I couldn't just rush over to the winner's circle.  First I had to check out the also rans.

Coral honeysuckle and oxalis are true color work horses in a Central Texas garden, but their persistence into the summer months means I take them just the littlest bit for granted.  So unfair, I know.
Coral honeysuckle, Lonicera sempervirens.  I trimmed away overhanging branches recently to encourage more blooms.
Oxalis dillenii - slender yellow woodsorrel - is considered a weed by many, but I welcome it as a native ground cover.

























I didn't catch bees at work on either.  Like me, the pollinator's current attention seems captivated by the appearance of our shorter term natives.   And why not.  According to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, Bluebonnets, aka Lupinus texensis, are "recognized by pollen ecologists as attracting large numbers of native bees."

While I'm already in bee nerd territory, may I mention that the orange colored saddlebags prominently displayed on the bee above?  Those are tibial pollen baskets called corbicula.  But maybe you knew that.  




Tibial trivia aside, I have no idea if the bees in these photos are natives.  I listened as long as I could and never once heard any trace of a drawl, so the jury is still out on that question.

Native or not, they were quite good company while I stubbornly ignored my seasonal allergies in favor of indulging some seasonal viewing.  Happy bluebonnet season, y'all!