Independence Day Ramblings

UPDATE ON THE JULY 1 POSTING

The native milkweed I mentioned last time that had trilled me by volunteering for our yard has been identified as the Sand milkweed (Asclepias arenaria). If a SAND milkweed was going to grow anywhere, what better place than where this nothing but miles of sand underfoot. Photos of the plant shape, leaves, and flowers vary greatly, so it was a challenging ID for me until I asked those knowledgeable folks who frequent the Facebook page Texas Flora. Amazing folks and, if you're a Texas gardener, a lovely place to get lost scrolling through.

WINE BOTTLE WALKWAY EDGING

You may know we've been collecting friends' and strangers' wine bottles for months, soaking off their labels, and burying them upside-down and halfway into the sand as a border for the backyard's walkways.

Early on, we recognized the need to bolster the line between the yard's walkways and raised beds, which are made of soft, trucked-in sand that kept seeking the lowest level possible because of the overly generous visits of the dreaded rain, wind, and gravity. Winter was too chilly for me to brave the temps and wind-driven chill factor (you thought I was kidding when I said I didn't like to leave the house when it gets below 60). And spring was too busy with other priorities, so I fell behind schedule. 

I've started back at it and can now visualize the end one day soon. We've managed to border all of the walkways along the slope from the raised house pad and beyond, and have now switched to beer bottles because the remaining beds and walkway are at the same level. Quicker/easier to de-label, quicker/easier to install.

Disclaimer: The walkways aren't complete because they're still a hodgepodge of sand, rocks, weeds, and piles of pulled weeds drying and losing their bulk.

If you're local and drink beer from bottles, I want your empties.  But probably only during July because I'm going to have this thing DONE before Ray returns in August.  I need your beer bottles now, and I'll come to you to pick them up.  Our lines are open and operators are waiting for your call.

Looking from the house to the far left, west corner of the backyard and the circle bed.	Scanning right, the paths that approach the circle bed. The path below the circle needs a few dozen more bottles.
Scanning farther right or eastward to the middle of the backyard. The two walkways going back and leftish need your beer bottles!	The far-right, eastern side of the backyard. These borders are essential done -- good enough.

OBITUARIES

As I've learned, Texas natives or not island natives, and despite experts claiming they'll grow here, only island natives really survive or thrive here. Everything I've planted has been hard-hit. Besides losing all the planted milkweed to the spring's salt winds, some of the red lantana has gone over the rainbow bridge, as well. Three survived the initial shock of arriving and were blooming beautifully in early spring, but since the southeastern storms came, they're now just sticks with a few leaves. I noticed signs of new leaves and even tiny bits of red, so I won't give up on them yet. 

The pride of barbados that didn't die shortly after arriving also were burned to the ground in spring, even the largest, two-foot tall one that bloomed last summer.  Most have started back and show a fairly healthy set of leaves, though none are yet taller than eight-inches. The guessing game is whether they'll continue shrinking each year or will eventually become adequately well established.

Spring storms also took a small spiny hackberry given to us from a friend and co-member of the Native Plant society, who claimed it would thrive and make up for the loss of our non-natives. Neither occurred. I was quite sad to also discover both silverado sages (Leucophyllum frutescens) died, each in different parts of the yard. 



WHAT WORKS

It's July, the beginning of year two on Mustang Island, time to get over it and move beyond the mourning phase. 

I'll go for a positive report next time of what's alive and — hopefully — what's resumed blooming now that the spring storms are done. 

Ready for a preview? 

Take this happy colony of plants, for example. These store-bought native perennials have been thriving like gangbusters and their blooms have the insect world abuzz — Gaura lindheimeri. Thank you, Lowe's for last fall's mistreated-plants dollar-cart.

An open blog posting to Ray gone to Australia

Hi Ray. I thought I'd not only let you know what's going on here on Mustang Island while you're gone, but share with other interested folks at the same time. Some of this is old news to catch folks up.

WEEDING

I spent two hours early this morning pulling weeds in the corner of the front yard by the driveway, where we have the three mediterranean palms. This was the second day in a row in this area because the wild things I've ignored since April have gotten quite dense. I'm not done with the front yet, which will take a few more days. The goal is to remove plain grasses that others would consider weeds, and leave anything else that really wants to be there if it's at all attractive. 

I pulled out the two asparagus ferns I discovered yesterday that had lain dormant since we first bought those palms from the special sale back whenever that was last year. Because of the frequent rain we've had lately, they came out easily and seemed to enjoy being potted. There's no reason to let them hide under palms when they could decorate the yard elsewhere. Putting them in black dirt gives them a chance to survive, and it felt good to do a rescue, so I figure wasn't a wasted effort. Don't tell my native plant purists or I'll be in trouble.

Above is one of the ferns and ice plants from alongside the back sidewalk that I rescued from the overwhelming but gorgeous Frog fruit that can grow quicker and thicker than I can move it to the sides. The higher pot in this shot was so long that its ends are rooting in pots below it.

To the right is the second asparagus fern, two rescued agaves, and the poor cape honeysuckle I unwisely planted on the southeast side of the house that died back to the ground in the salty spring storms. They should have better futures now.

  

These two on the left are new, Wichu's new catnip seedlings. I don't intend to bring these in and let him have his way with them, but will pull select leaves for him, experimenting with what degree of drying he prefers. Hmmm, I buy catnip dry, but I wonder if cats prefer dry over fresh.

BIG CRITTERS

About 8am this morning, as I prepared to leave the real world and head inside to get ready for work, I was thrilled to hear the joyous howling and barking that signals the return of our coyotes to their nearby den of youngsters. Turning to look at the dunes, I saw two adults clearly outlined, standing on the ridge. Even without my glasses, I could make out how they turned their noses upward as they howled to their pups — who I was also able to see! Yes, a first for me — several small ones wiggling excitedly around the adults, about 1/3 their size, still too small to venture from their den area. It's been so entertaining to hear their squeaky little voices grow deeper as they mature over time.

LITTLE CRITTERS

I don't have anything for scale on this unidentified flying critter on the right, but we see them frequently on the outside of the windows all about the house. They're no more than 3/4 of an inch wide, but are frequent visitors, just hanging there for hours and hours. I feel reassured by their quiet and patient watch.

This one below wasn't on the island, but a few weeks ago, I found this Big-Eyed Click Beetle hanging onto my shirt as I got out of the car. It startled me and, not being able to see it well, asked Ray to remove it. He must not have felt comfortable touching it, so he brushed it to the ground. 







I put the cigarette butt next to it to show scale, big enough to startle, especially with those markings. I read they can bite, but mine was especially well behaved and hardly moved, even after taking a ride with gravity. An odd thing to be wearing like a brooch for... how long? Passive critters can be good.

MILKWEEDS

Unfortunately, all my tropical milkweeds I grew from seed two years ago, watched larva enjoy last spring, and brought to our new island environment — have died. They were beautiful last summer, bringing monarchs daily, but didn't care much for the winter, and tried to come back in spring, but the salty storms coated everything and burned them all to the ground.

But wait. 

Here's the good news. 

A native milkweed appeared in the yard in spring, on the evil southeast side even, where the wind is strongest and saltiest and most cruel. 

It bloomed happily and I caught these shots as it did. 

Unfortunately, something chewed the flower off before it could go to seed. 











Obviously, native to the island works and only native to the island works.

Cheaper, easier this way.

Now back to removing the bermuda grass and sand burrs.