Alas, there will be no second spring this October. Usually, this time of year we have a second bustin' of blooms. But with no substantial rains in the past few months, it's just been a plain bust. Most of our plants are really struggling. The difference, though, is I don't worry as much as I used to. After the rough summer of '24, our native gardens still looked good this past spring. We'll see how everything how it goes this time around.
As a general rule, we try to plant only natives. But I gave in last week and bought six tithonias (Tithonia rotundifolia) from the Arnoskys at their Blue Barn. I've seen how tall they grow there and how they do indeed attract a lot of butterflies. This species is native to Mexico and Central America. We'll see what happens!
Normally, my Texas satsuma mandarin tree (‘Miho’) puts on fruit every other year. Last October, we picked a good number of mandarins. Then this year – SURPRISE! – it put on two mandarins. I think it's a way of telling us good by. I'm hoping my son's best friend will adopt my tree before the first freeze and rehome it in his new greenhouse. We just can't move it back and forth into our garage any more. Plus, it's really getting big. Believe it or not, I've keep this beauty alive since May 2004, when my son gifted it to me for Mother's Day.
As a general rule, I try not to interfere with nature. But yesterday, I did. I interfered.
After supper, I was in the back yard, walking a path, trimming dead foliage here and there. Along the way, I stopped to admire the last surviving one of five yellow garden spiders (Argiope aurantia) that took up residence this past summer in our yard. At the base of her large orbweb, she'd hung a recent catch, wrapped in white webbing. A couple of little legs dangled out through the silk. When I saw them still moving, I felt sad. That's nature, I told myself, and walked on by.
But I went back.
"I'm sorry," I told the spider. "But I have to rescue this one." Trying not to damage her web too much, I was able to remove the dung beetle – likely a Texas black phanaeus (Phanaeus texensis). I took a picture of her (above), then went in the house for scissors. Could I save her? I had to try.
Patiently and gently, I trimmed fibers and pulled away silk with my fingernails. I was so afraid that I might damage or pull off one of her legs. All the while, the beetle struggled and fought, never tiring or giving up. "You want to live, don'tyou," I told her. "Well, I'm trying!" Slowly, bit by bit, the silk came away. At one point, I could see that the wrapping could be peeled away. It wasn't sticky at all, just tight.
Miraculously, the spider's webbing finally fell away and off! My beetle friend was free, free, free! I'd done it!
Happy and relieved, I carried her to an open area outside our yard and set her on a rock. Quick as a flash, she buzzed up, up and away! (I barely got a video of her taking off.) Her final mission in life now is to deposit eggs in some poop and then go to heaven. She won't live much longer. That's nature. So was I wrong to interfere? Maybe. But when I saw her struggling and her determination to live, I had to try and help. I couldn't just walk away.
One little beetle – who cares? Me and my heart did. Because small matters.
The strong silk webbing that was around the beetle.
Take a look at this amazing video taken by Bunnia DoByns
of Blanco, Texas. She was there at just the right moment to see a
yellow garden spider (Argiope aurantia) catch and wrap wide swaths of silk around a grasshopper that had just bumbled into her orbweb. With Bunnia's permission, I'm sharing her video here and also on my YouTube channel.
If you look closely, you can see how this spider is pulling silk from her spinnerets at the tip of her abdomen. Spider silk is comprised of proteins and is liquid until it hits air. Then it solidifies and becomes super strong and elastic. About halfway through this video, I believe the spider is biting and injecting venom into the grasshopper, which will paralyze and provide a fresh meal for when the spider's ready to eat.
This afternoon, I presented my favorite program, "Spiders of Central Texas," to members of the Blanco County Master Gardeners. Thank you for having me! And one member shared a really cool spider video with me. I'll be posting it soon with her permission.
This evening, I collected seeds from three Illinois bundleflowers (Desmanthus illinoensis) that grow in the city easement on Seventh Street. (I’ve admired this neighborhood native before.) I spread them in the Meadow and along the fence line in the Pasture. I think they have the coolest seed heads!
Talking about spiders will always be my favorite subject. But I do venture out to other topics. Two evenings ago, I presented "Texas Flies, Oh My" to members of the Bexar Audubon Society of South Central Texas in San Antonio. In July 2024, they invited me to give my spider presentation, which I did. Once again, Patsy Inglet this week gave me a nice introduction.
Afterward, members John Huston and his wife chatted with me briefly about their black solider fly larvae, which have taken over their compost bin. During my presentation, I'd briefly mentioned how these larvae are used commercially to recycle waste, make animal feed and even control house flies. At first, I thought they'd purchased larvae to get started. But no, the black soldier flies just showed up and deposited eggs. I asked John if he could send me a photo and video, which he kindly did. With his permission, I'm sharing here.
That was me! Yesterday, I presented my "Spiders of Central Texas" program at the McLennan County Emergency Services Education Center in Waco. I was the August speaker for "Lunch With The Masters," a monthly series that the McLennan County Master Gardeners host. My invitation to speak stemmed from a hearty suggestion given by member John Sponenberg, who has followed this blog from nearly the beginning.
Darn, John, why didn't we think to get a photo of us together? I'm so glad we finally got to meet in person! And yes, I'll do better at posting more here.
UPDATE An email from Laynie M. with the chapter: "I have to tell you what a great hit your talk was. Yesterday we had a
work day at one of our gardens, and everyone was on the lookout for
spiders. Then when one of the ladies found one, they all had to come
over and see if it was a boy or a girl!"
This is the story of our last surviving, full-blooded woolly ironweed (Vernonia lindheimeri). We planted our original one in October 2013 in the back yard. A year later, we planted western ironweed (Vernonia baldwinii) in the front yard. When the deer began to eat those, I attempted an ironweed rescue and planted the westerns on the other end of a small bed where the woolly ironweeds lived. (Are you keeping up with which ironweeds are which?) Well, the western ironweeds ADORED the back yard. In fact, they fell in love with the woollies and produced a hybrid. Well, the hybrids took over and crowded out the woollies. This past spring, I noticed one surviving woolly and decided I'd swoop in and rescue it.
Finally, that happened today. But it was a JOB! In the top photo, you can see how long the root was. I poured water into the hole and dug and dug and dug and got it out intact. Then I replanted the woolly WAY across the yard, where hopefully it can grow and reestablish the species in our yard. Stay tuned!
New digs for the woolly.
Circle shows where the woolly was growing, surrounded by hybrids.
This is a photo of one of the many plateau milkweed (Matelea edwardensis) vines that grow on our rural land. When I spotted what I thought was a seedling vine, I decided I'd dig it up and take it home. Why not?
WOW, look at the root! It's older than I thought. And it sure is true how milkweeds establish thick tubular roots. Somehow I managed to get nearly all the roots of my "seedling." I've put it in a pot with dirt that it'd been growing in. That should help it feel at home when it gets established. Then later I'll find a place in our back yard to plant it.
UPDATE I am sad to report that my little milkweed died. I failed to keep it watered because we've been out a lot this past month, helping my mother move out of her house. Win some, lose some.
