Snagged a skimmer

Last Wednedsay, while eating supper, we saw a dragonfly pass by outside the dining room window. She lit on a plastic table so I grabbed my camera and hung out the window for a shot or two. She didn't stay long! I cropped tight so this photo isn't a great shot. But at least I documented her visit! I think this visitor is a female common whitetail (Plathemis lydia). If you disagree, please let me know! In the meantime, I've submitted this image as a new record to Odonata Central.

Pipevine cats

So last June, after a slew of pipevine (Battus philenor) caterpillars devoured our lone pipevine plant (Aristolochia fimbriata), we drove to Austin and bought two more from the Natural Gardener. Well, they've torn through one plant already and will likely finish up the second. Which leaves one plant. Good luck, guys!  

Click on this photo to make it larger and see how many black caterpillars you can find. There's at five, maybe more.

Even seed pods get eaten!

A caterpillar's stripping what's left of the leaves on this plant.

Battus philenor tends to be social. This photo isn't the greatest, but there are three cats on this one stem.

I shook out some seeds (and caterpillar poop) from a couple of seed pods in hopes that we can germinate new pipevines to plant. Aren't the seeds cool?

Trumpet creeper vine

Look what's blooming blooming blooming!

Gate done!

James finished his latest project...a cedar gate in the Meadow. Isn't it beautiful? He's already planted some Virginia creeper on both sides.

Last classroom visit

Last Wednesday morning, science teacher Pam Meier walked over from the Blanco Middle School with three students to tour our Texas Wildscape for the last time before summer. Two girls, Sarah and Lupita, will go to high school next fall. But Aurora will still be in middle school so hopefully Pam will bring her back along with some new students. 

As soon as the group arrived, I pointed out a shrill bird call and asked if they remembered what it was. Hmmm. It's baby, I hinted. It's our statebird, I hinted some more. Mocking....bird! 

Next I showed them pipevine caterpillars chomping away on pipevine leaves in the Meadow. I pointed out eggs, too. "I saw the mama butterfly deposit these last week," I said. Then I pointed to a chubby caterpillar. "Isn't it CUTE?" I asked. Everyone smiled and nodded.

This time, they brought their lunch and stayed long enough to picnic on our back patio. Before everyone left, I gave the girls each a flame acanthus and/or blue mistflower to take home.

"Wait a minute," I said as they headed back to school. "Hear that screechy call? What's that again?"

"A baby mockingbird!" the girls exclaimed.

Mission accomplished!

Giane coneflower

 

 Last April, we bought two giant coneflowers (Rudbeckia maxima) from the Mostly Native Plant Sale in Boerne. This month, one is blooming for the first time. It's beautiful! Giant coneflowers can grow as tall as six feet. As you can see, this one is taller than our chain-link fence.
In the wild, I'd only seen them once somewhere out toward East Texas. I took some digital pictures of them but don't know what happened to them. Then last week, I spotted one growing near San Marcos. On the way back (a different trip) via RR 32, I saw a cluster growing in a dry stream bed or draw. Cool!

This jumping spider was messing around with a stick that was somehow attached to the flower. He acted like he was trying to rig an escape hatch. I don't know what happened after I left. Doesn't he know that he's got built-in drag-line equipment?

They're still here

Our martins. They came back. I just knew they'd leave today and never return. But they proved me wrong. Yet again.

This evening, I was going to put in a sparrow trap. Since today was perhaps a hatching day, I took some photos of the martins' nest. No eggs showed up. I took another picture, then another. No eggs. Tentatively, I reached inside the compartment and softly touched around the leaves. No eggs. 

Gone.

Vanished. 

I was stunned. James reached inside, too, and felt around. He couldn't believe it. "Four eggs," he said, "gone."

Sadly, I cleaned out the sparrow nests from two other compartments and threw the material on the ground. I didn't feel like putting in a trap. Then I went back inside the house and shared my sad news on the Purple Martin Conservation Association's page on Facebook. 

"No eggs," I wrote. "Our four eggs are gone. The first would have been hatching around today. And we'd just put up the predator guard this week. And this morning, I just paid my dues to the PMCA and the North Texas Purple Martin group...our brand new colony is done. Finished. I feel so sad for the martins too."

Then I cried.

 "I don't think I can do this any more," I typed on the page. ".....sorry.......I'm really down right now..................."

I really felt like giving up on this business of being a purple martin landlord. Obviously, we'd failed. Because their eggs were gone. Likely eaten by a rat snake. We'd even met up with one in the back yard yesterday. James got pictures of it, too. We didn't think anything about it. We like snakes. But now... It's such a moral dilemma for me. Because of the martins, I trap sparrows (then give them to my Hit Man for execution). I appreciate the role that snakes play in nature, and I've never hated or feared them. But now, what do I do? It's hard. We have decided to get rid of two brush piles on our property. We'd let them pile up as "snags" and places that wildlife could hide. But now we wonder if that was wise after all. Maybe the rat snakes live there.

This evening, I stood in The Meadow, amazed and stunned to see our martin pair flying around the house. I'd just assumed that they would abandon their nest if a snake had indeed eaten their eggs. But there they were, flitting around and landing on their porch. At first, he sat and chortled a bit sadly. I wanted to cry. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry you lost your eggs."

But after awhile, he perked up and seemed happier. He'd take off, and she'd follow behind. They'd land on their porch, pop inside their compartment and chatter softly. Then they'd take off again. In and out, in and out.  

So, if you're not going to give up, then I guess I can't either. Then I thought back on everything we've been through together. A first lady mate that didn't stay. A starling attack. Sparrow invasions. The day I thought a hawk had taken the male. And now the loss of four eggs.

Yet there they were, my martin male and female, going back inside the compartment where they'd lost their unhatched. How brave is that?

Truly, how brave IS that? I've decided that I'm going to try to have the courage of a purple martin.