Gulf Coast Greenie

It's Springtime on the Bayou

Just in time for Garden Blogger's Bloom Day, wildflowers have started blooming around the bayou by our house and in our garden.

I haven't been able to identify these two:

Is this a tree that sprouted from a paddler's picnic apple?

The lizards are out again too.

We have anoles in our garden, but they've been to fast for me so far. Their more patient cousins like the one above were willing subjects on sunny Sunday as we kayaked on Armand Bayou.

Back at home, our blue curls are unfurling.

I first became familiar with blue curls last year and was determined to have some of my own this year.

Our "Forest Pansy" redbud, which we planted about five years ago is blooming more than ever before.

Close by, verbena is firing back up again.

And Formosa azaleas are just beginning to open.

The spirea too seems to have timed its flowering just for Bloom Day.

These azaleas have been blooming since last month:

The strawberries started blooming soon after last month's Bloom Day.

And the pansies are still going, snapdragons just hitting their stride.

A new addition to our garden that is just about to start blooming is a "Reine des Violettes" rose. We got it at the Antique Rose Emporium last month while we were up there.

There are seven buds in all so far.

Am I silly to be nervous that the sliver of color on this one looks more red than purple? I'm a rose newbie but have purchased mislabeled camellias before.

I'll post new photos when it finally opens, but please let me know your thoughts in the meantime.

More Birds of Aransas County, plus a Local Surprise

Last week, I shared with you a boat tour of Aransas Bay, but in that post, I didn't include all of the birds we saw that afternoon. Below are a few more shots.

If you looked at the video, you may have noticed these lovely pelicans:

I have never seen one do that with its pouch before!

We also saw some lovely ibises that moved a little too fast in the fog for my camera to capture them at their best:

On the same trip, elsewhere in Aransas and Calhoun counties, we saw many more amazing animals.

Further inland, we found this loggerhead shrike perched next to its favorite plant features: Thorns. Shrikes are known to impale their prey on them.

And a juvenile white-tailed hawk, the first I've seen:

We also saw many of the same birds we found in the Bosque del Apache at the end of last year, such as

sandhill cranes:

and snow geese:

When we got back to Clear Lake at the end of the weekend, we had a wonderful surprise too:

A flock of ibises right next to I-45! We usually have them in this area now, but I've never seen them taking advantage of improperly planned construction next to a major highway before. I'm glad poor drainage can at least create a habitat for the prey of some cool birds. (I don't want to embarrass the business next to this mini wetland, but it is new construction and the area didn't flood in previous years.) Is accidental habitat restoration inherently bad?

Aransas Bay Last Week: A boatload of intracoastal awesomeness, updated with video

Tens of thousands of ducks darkened the sky last Saturday afternoon in Aransas Bay.

Last weekend we traveled to South Texas and went on a boat tour around Aransas Bay. This time of year, it's generally a good idea to make reservations ahead of time for such excursions. We didn't see any "snow birds" -- visitors from the North that like to flock to the relatively inexpensive and warmer coasts south of Houston -- but the boat was to capacity.

A downside to planning ahead is that you can't be certain of the weather. It was very foggy for us in the early afternoon, but the water and winds were calm. If I were to choose between low light and wind, I would choose low light. It gets so windy down there that the sturdy oak trees along the shore bend away from the water.

After leaving the dock at Fulton, our captain made a bee line for the marshes near the Aransas Wildlife Refuge where whooping cranes can be found. Even on our way there, as we sped down the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, we saw some astounding sights. At one point a large squadron of pelicans emerged from the horizon and flew above our heads. The captain said he'd never seen such a large grouping before.

American white pelicans in the sky, egrets along the shore

It wasn't easy finding the whooping cranes. They don't group together like sandhill cranes. Whooping crane pairs are territorial and only found dispersed across their winter habitat here. We were fortunate to see this pair with their chick (and a great blue heron):

The adults seemed to maintain the same distance between themselves and their chick as they moved along looking for food.

Whereas sandhill cranes will feed on grains, whooping cranes primarily feed on invertebrates. Tragically, their primary food source here, the blue crab, is very scarce again this year because of a lack of fresh water, from drought and upstream usage. (Read more.)

We saw other pairs from a distance but were not able to get close, and this was the only chick we saw. Even so, it was such a privilege to get to see them. Fewer than 20 of them existed when my grandparents were my age.

Other birds we saw that were once on the brink but have since rebounded are the brown pelican and peregrine falcon.

Scroll down for more photos from this spectacular day.

Double-crested Cormorants and a Brown Pelican

  Snowy Egret with Skimmers and Sandpipers

American Oystercatchers

Long-billed Curlews

Belted Kingfisher

Great Blue Herons

The last planned sight on the tour was a nesting ground for peregrine falcons. I don't know what the structure they're using was originally built for, but it looked like a contemporary architect had designed it for them. They even have a native-plant garden.

But that wasn't the end to the fun. On the way back to the dock, a pod of dolphins played joyfully in the boat's wake.

 

Wordless Wednesday: Whoopers and a heron

 

Waxwings, Wrens, Warblers, Robins, and a Sapsucker, with Video

Despite the recent freeze, our garden is alive! Last Sunday we had an astounding number of visitors.

The Cedar Waxwings coordinated well with our oak trees.

But the Yaupon Holly was what they came for.

 

It was delightful enough watching them enjoy the berries, but their "Don King hair" definitely added flare to their entertainments.

Our first Robins of the year and a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker came through at the same time to partake in the berry eating. 

Elsewhere in the garden, Yellow-rumped Warblers sought insects.

 
And Carolina Wrens went house shopping?

Below is video my husband took of the Waxwings, Robins, and Sapsucker. You can hear the Wrens and other birds, such as Blue Jays, in the background.

The other background noises are my camera shutter and the resurfacing of our nearby water tower. I thought the water-tower work had been scaring off the birds, but this crowd didn't seem to mind it.

Crane Party (with video)

When I made my last post, I did not know it would take so long to follow-up on my promises; I got swept up into another adventure that I'll write about another time. I apologize for having disappeared without notice.

I'm back now, and, whoo-ee, I have a lot to show you.

Last week at the Bosque del Apache near Socorro, New Mexico, hundreds of people gathered to celebrate a spectacular yearly event: The visit of thousands of sandhill cranes that spent their summer in Canada.

The cranes start to arrive along the Middle Rio Grande Valley in late October, but their numbers grow more impressive toward the end of November. We visited the bosque (Spanish for forest) after the cranes began to arrive but before the other twitchers (British for birdwatchers) became too numerous. That meant that we missed some wonderful activities at the yearly Festival of the Cranes. Even so, it was very special to have so little human traffic during our time there. The roads in the refuge are unpaved, so dust can be an issue, in addition to the more common ones, such as noise.

As we stopped to photograph one group, another group would come from elsewhere.

 

Sometimes they landed as gracefully as any bird I've ever seen.

At other times, it was difficult to tell what was happening.

 
Once they were on the ground, they seemed as comfortable as if they were our hosts. Sometimes they even walked along with us on the road. (Okay, they were usually walking ahead of us, but they usually seemed at ease.)

  My favorite part about my experience of them, however, was their calling to each other.

You can hear them in this video taken by my husband:

(We also have an HD widesreen version on YouTube.)

The cranes are the star attraction in the Bosque del Apache this time of year, but we also saw many other fascinating birds and other creatures. Stay tuned for swarming snow geese, demure quail, vibrant pheasants, and much more.

Tuesday Teaser (or an early almost-wordless Wednesday), Updated

Can anyone guess which wildlife refuge I just visited?

 

I'll post much more about it in coming days.

_________________________________________________________________
In response to Cheybean:

They're coots and geese in the above photo. Cranes were in the area too. And there is an upcoming festival to celebrate the arrival of the cranes.

Is Goldenrod Worth Its Weight in the Garden?

There is the gale to urge behind 
  And bruit our singing down, 
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind 
  From which to gather your gown.    
What matter if we go clear to the west, 
  And come not through dry-shod? 
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast 
  The rain-fresh goldenrod. 

Robert Frost, "A Line-storm Song"

I challenge you to name a flower that embodies wildness more than goldenrod. Unlike its cousin the daisy, it will not be contained. And it chooses the stormy month of October to shine through.

The time goldenrod gave me the greatest thrill was in 2007 when I stumbled upon a giant wave of monarchs migrating across Galveston.

It was a dry and windy day, and they huddled in groups on the goldenrod for sustenance and support. I was mesmerized.

We hadn't been in our home for very long at that point, but I knew we had this miraculous plant by our driveway. That year I had already cut it back to the ground, before it could bloom. It had become tall and gangling.

In 2008, when I intended to let it grow, Ike debris flattened it without my intervention. This year I was finally able let it grow freely.

I remember now why I'd cut it back in the past. Even before our recent heavy rains, its own weight brought it low. In the wild the stalks are in such numbers they can hold each other up. Our driveway keeps their roots in check, but not the stalks. So was it worth it to let it grow so out of bounds?

In the last few days, its blooms have provided the only sunshine! Bees and wasps have enjoyed them too. 

I'm going to try a dwarf variety next. Hopefully in 2010 I'll be able to show how the "Baby Gold" stands up.

Even if you choose to keep goldenrod out of your own garden, celebrate its role in our wild areas. When the rains finally taper off, it will be a great time to see it growing freely in meadows around town and on the island.

Not by Flowers Alone

Everyone knows hummingbirds love a good flower . . .

and a clean* feeder . . .

As Butterhummer mentioned in her recent wonderful post about Rockport, they also love to eat insects such as spiders.

In our garden, the hummingbirds' preferred hunting grounds for these are our yaupon holly tree and oak trees. They double as watchtowers for guarding their favorite flowers.

Note the thread of spider silk on the leaves at left.

Where do you most often see hummingbirds hunting?



* I started out this season with nectar made from organic unbleached sugar, but it was unappealing to them because it looked cloudy like fermented sugar water.

Happy Coincidences

On June 5, the sunset, full moon, and low tide came at the same time on Armand Bayou.

Low tide seems to bring out the water birds. We saw many more yellow crowned night herons than I'll show you here. This was a particularly patient one:

We also saw more mammals than the last time we came this way.

Do you think this rabbit knew we could see it?

There weren't many clouds, so the sunset would have been ho-hum if the full moon hadn't come to join it.

Twilight held its own charm.

Saturday afternoon we headed to Galveston.

Wildflowers were bursting out all over near San Luis Pass:

At dusk, the water birds joined us on the bay.

This great blue heron shows what a pleasant breeze we had:

This may be the first reddish egret I've seen. It matched the ruddy sky.

On the other side of the sky we were gifted with a more fiery palette.

Sunday afternoon, we were back to Armand Bayou. There were many other paddlers there, in many different types of vessels: kayaks like ours, traditional canoes, collapsible canoes, an electric mini-pontoon, and even inflatable kayaks (which I discourage anyone from using in these reptile-populated waters).

There are so many alligators and new paddlers sharing the water now that a new sign has been posted:

Really, you DO NOT want to try to catch one.

This young alligator had wandered off on its own.

We were as pleased as teachers to not have to talk to the parents.

We were also very grateful to another "monster."

This tree may be long dead, but it is a survivor in our eyes:

We, and, no doubt, many others, have named it the dragon. The dragon survived Ike!

Here is a photo I took in July of 2008:

if you would have told me at any point in my life before this that I would one day see a dead tree as a remarkable symbol of hope, I would have told you with great certainty that you were totally nuts. . . . Maybe you think I'm nuts now, but, to me, this is one of the most beautiful natural features around.

The sunset that night seemed to echo my optimism. (I see sunsets the way many others see sunrises.)