A fasciated Snoopy

Well, that's what I thought yesterday when I found this odd seedhead on a Mexican hat (Ratibida columnifera) in The Meadow. I think it's an anomaly. Linda C., a fellow Texas Master Naturalist on iNaturalist, set me straight and called it "fasciated." Thanks, Linda! 

 

And, wow. A new term for me! Here's an article on fasciation, which is an abnormal pattern of growth in the growing tip of plants.

 

Maybe you see something else, not Snoopy? 

The seedhead among its brethren

Maybe lose some, win some

Alas, our western ironweed (Vernonia baldwinii) and its hybrid are eaten up with a rust fungus. It makes me sad to see them so sick. Thank goodness, I transplanted the one surviving woolly ironweed (Vernonia lindheimeri) across the yard! I think the fungus attacked our ironweeds last summer, too. I'm hoping these survive and come back next year. I think they will.   

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In the meantime, look at our velvetleaf mallows (Allowissadula holosericea). They're still growing UP and out!

Surprises from the past

In the recent past, I discovered these old plant markers that I made at least 17 years ago. Somehow they resurfaced in some flowerbeds. I can't believe how well they've held up! I originally made them April 2009 (and some earlier than that). The butterfly bush is long gone, but our 'Indigio Spires' are still around. Just wanted to share. 

A fun slumber party

Click on photo for more images from the research article....

 

I subscribe to The Nature Notice, iNaturalist's newsletter that comes via e-mail. One story caught my eye:

The story above links to a research article, "A cuckoo slumber party?..." The included photos of the snoozing bees on the sunflowers made me smile. They also reminded me of my own roosting male bees from November 2010  (which were California digger bees, Anthophora californica) and July 2014  (Common long-horned bees, Melissodes communis). 

 

My little cactus

Many years ago, Ray B., a fellow Texas Master Naturalist, gifted this cactus to me. It was much smaller back then. And though I've let many potted plants go, I've held onto this little guy. Somehow it's survived and even thrived. What is it? I wondered that, too. With help from iNaturalist, I think it must be a star cactus in the genus of Astrophytum. That's the best I can do! 

 

Telling a funny on myself

Yesterday James and I visited my mother in Boerne and ran errands with her. She mentioned how she'd always wanted to find a certain grave stone in the Boerne Cemetery. Well, I whipped out my handy-dandy phone and said we could do that right then!

 

"I'll use Find A Grave," I added. "It'll be like geocaching."  

 

Sure enough, the man's name came right up along with the location of his grave. I tried to give directions to James, who was behind the wheel, but it wasn't going well because I wasn't certain what I was seeing on my screen. Finally, I jumped out of the car and said I'd find it on foot first. Which I did.

 

Meanwhile, back in the car, my mother watched as I hiked across the cemetery.

 

"Oh, I hope she doesn't find a bug," she told James. "Otherwise, we'll be here for a while!" 

 

LOL! My mother just thinks she knows me! I still laugh over that funny.

First a hole, then a turret...

Once upon a time, a tiny princess lived in a tiny turret... Well, not exactly. But yesterday I did spot a tiny hole. When I looked closer, I saw the turret. Out of curiosity, I hung around to see what might be living in it. It wasn't long before an ant carrying a tiny piece of green showed up. She took forever to find the hole. Which she finally crawled into and disappeared. While I watched, squatted down on my haunches (and trying to ignore the bites of teeny-tiny ants), someone peeked her head out. Then she darted back into the hole. I got a couple of videos because she made me chuckle. 

 

With help from iNaturalist, I discovered that my girls are turret fungus-farming ants (Mycetomoellerius turrifex). This was the third time that I've observed this species in our gardens. I just hadn't realized before that they're among the cool ant species that grow their own food. I learned about them while writing a short piece for Texas Parks & Wildlife magazine on Texas leaf-cutter ants. Which is why I know my ants are "girls." Ant queens produce only female workers. Then later they produce male drones, which live only long enough to mate. Some fungus-growing ants can defoliate plants and trees. In our gardens, our colonies are too small do any damage. 

Just hit 6,800 observations

My next goal is to reach 1,600 species right here in our native plants gardens!

What an opportunist!

Take a look at this pushy pearl milkweed vine (Matelea reticulata) that spied a lofty opportunity and grabbed it…right up a wind chime that my friend Shena gifted to us. Alas, this vine is just one of many that pop up here and there in our gardens, most of which then I have to pull. I know, I know. It’s a beautiful and popular species. But it’s also a prolific producer of pods, hence seeds and then MORE vines. Admire this one while you can…..

The saga of one little hummingbird...

If you read my post about the giant lichen orbweavers in our back yard, then you got a hint of what was to come next on my blog. And it wasn't good. 

This morning, James reported that one of the orbweavers had caught something in her web and was wrapping it up. Did I want to see? No, I replied groggily, still waking up in bed. "You can get a video for me," I added.

Then James ran back inside. "I'm gonna need your help!" he exclaimed out of breath. "The spider's got a hummingbird!" 

With THAT update, I threw back the covers and literally jumped out of bed. I grabbed a pair of small scissors and flew out the garage door. As I worked to free her, the hummingbird squeaked with fear.

After the little bird's release, the rest of my day until 12:30 p.m. was spent trying to rehab her so she could fly again. But it didn't look good for her at the start. In the meantime, James tore down both giant webs in the back yard. 

With time, I did manage to get most of the web off the hummer, but her left wing didn't fold out normally. In between cleaning sessions, I kept her on a towel in a lidded shoebox. Now and then I offered her sugar water from a syringe, and she sipped. Yay! I finally used a warm wet rag to wash off her left wing as best I could.  

Finally, after a couple of unsuccessful tries, I carried her outside still inside the box. Squatting low to the ground, I took her out and held her gently in my hands. Slowly, I opened my hands. She sat there quietly. With my thumb, I stroked her back. Then, within a few seconds, she lifted off and hoovered into a live oak! For a little while, she just perched on a limb with her left wing outstretched. I went into the house but returned a few minutes later to check on her. She still perched in the same area on the same limb. I could see her little head turning back and forth, nervously taking in the view. A few little feathers stuck out from her head. The thought occurred to me to hang a feeder in her vicinity. But when I returned with a feeder, she was gone. 

 

If we see a little hummer at our feeder with unruly head feathers, I'll let you know! I sure hope we do. As for the two orbweavers, well, they'll still live in our back yard. Orbweavers do occasionally catch birds in their webs, but it's rare. Either way, that's just nature. 

Two giant orbweavers!

A day or so ago, I was elated to discover that we have not just one but TWO giant lichen orbweavers (Araneus bicentenarius) in the back yard. Fast forward to this morning (next blog post), and the discovery wasn't so wonderful. Yesterday the thought did occur to me that what if a bird flew into a web? You see, these spiders only come out at night, but they leave their gigantic-ly wide webs up during the day. 

 

However, I let that thought go.... 

How about a glass of spider?

The burgundy color of this crab spider (Mecaphesa dubia) really amazed me. Doesn't she blend in well with the winecups?

Crawdads and some snakes

Wait! There's more to the crawdad story! We also spotted snakes below the lower dam but just two. The big one was a plain-bellied watersnake (Nerodia erythrogaster). Turns out the younger snake was the same species. It was entertaining to watch the crawdads semi-interact with the snakes. James said he saw one crawdad reach out and pinch the bigger snake's tail. I missed that! Overall, both snakes ignored the crawdads. 

The crawdad is climbing the dam while the two snakes watch. 

A closer look at the adventuresome crawdad.

The adult watersnake just acted chill when the crawdad got closer. 

 

 

Crawdad play day at the park

After we wrapped up nature watching at the upper dam yesterday at Blanco State Park, James and I headed to the lower dam. There we found some crawdads – officially called red swamp crayfish (Procambarus clarkii) – having a grand time in the fast-moving water coming over the dam. I laughed when they'd tumble down the limestone and then climb back through the rushing water. I hadn't thought about crawdads in YEARS. Seeming them brought back funny memories of one that my son kept in an aquarium in his bedroom. This morning, I dug out a newspaper column I wrote about Bob, Patrick's cranky crawdad, and my daughter Lindsey's mischievous hamster, Hamm. Those were long-ago days when my former husband was the park superintendent at Blanco State Park, and the four of us lived in the state residence.   

  

 Life Among the Living, Blanco County News, January 3, 2001