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!