November in the Country

Since our VW Beetle desperately needed a workout and since I had no other plans, I took her for a jaunt in the country on this beautiful November morning.  Clear, blue skies, cool air and clean-edged farmlands made the road trip especially enjoyable.

Turkey vultures circled overhead while a lone, red-tailed hawk crossed my path with what appeared to be a more specific destination.  Flocks of blackbirds, crows and mourning doves toured the corn stubble and small herds of horses and goats grazed on the browning pastures, now free of those annoying summer insects.

Following a long, hot, dry summer, devoid of cold nights until very recently, the autumn colors are late and relatively muted this year.  On the other hand, the osage orange crop is impressive, with dozens of the golden orbs clustered along the road in wooded areas.  No doubt, the Beetle and I will enjoy another rural excursion in the near future.  

Inspectors in the Mulberry Trees

Our mulberry trees are beginning to bear fruit and, over the past few days, small flocks of robins have turned up to assess the progress.  Since the berries are not yet ripe, these inspectors leave after a few samples are tasted and subsequently dropped.

Within a week, the mulberries will have ripened and avian visitors to the trees will increase dramatically.  Joining the robins will be cedar waxwings, spotted towhees, house finches and Bullock's orioles, among others.  Of course, squirrels will get more than their fair share while raccoons and fox will turn up at night to scour the ground for fallen fruit.

Mulberry trees thrive in this semiarid climate and are welcome magnets for wildlife.  I would like to personally thank the inspectors for calling attention to the upcoming feast.

Flashback Post LVIII

As we approach Halloween, pumpkins adorn homes, shops and garden centers across the country.  It seems like a good time to republish a post from 2007, released less than a year after this Blog was created. 

See: Pumpkins

Year of the Pear

When we purchased our Littleton, Colorado, farm, back in 1990, we noted a full-grown pear tree along one of the pastures.  Over the years, it has produced pears that are often sparse and small; even that has been an accomplishment since late spring freezes often wipe out the blossoms.

This year, we have a magnificent crop of large pears, the most successful season to date.  Though I am not especially fond of the fruit, I'll disperse some before the raccoons get more than their fare share.

Native to Europe and Asia, there are more than 3000 cultivars across the globe.  Some European pear trees are said to live 50 years or more and ours must be pushing its limit.  Considering the fact that we do not water our larger trees, that is some feat in this semiarid climate.

Mulberry Stations

The mulberry trees on our Littleton farm are now bearing fruit and the wildlife know it.  Robins, house finches and cedar waxwings are the most reliable consumers though Bullock's orioles and gray catbirds partake as well.

Magpies and spotted towhees scavenge the ground beneath the trees and mammals are drawn to the fruit day and night; fox squirrels, raccoons and mice are the regular participants, joined by red fox during their years of residence.

Aside from the usual berry fans, other birds are attracted by the feeding activity and our mulberry stations are excellent and convenient sites for birding; I even join the feast during my vigils.  Furthermore, mulberry trees are drought tolerant, offering a reliable source of nutrition in this semi-arid environment. 

Our Avian Magnet Tree

A modest-sized eastern redcedar stands just northwest of our house and, this year, it is loaded with berries.  As a result, local birds are swarming to its natural bounty.

Of course, American robins dominate the scene and I counted at least 200 in or near the tree this morning.  Cedar waxwings are also regular visitors, generally arriving in flocks of 12 to 24 individuals.  Other species, while not necessarily fans of juniper berries, are drawn by the activity; house finches and American goldfinches seem to be especially curious.  Then there are the blue jays, our avian constables, turning up to complain about the noisy congestion and to make sure that they are not missing out on a convenient source of food.

While the feast has already lasted for a several weeks, plenty of berries remain.  As naturalists know, planting trees can produce multiple benefits: beautifying your property, re-wilding the landscape, combating climate change and attracting a rich diversity of wildlife.  Plant trees and lose some lawn!! 

A Mulberry Feast

We have several mulberry trees (including a weeping mulberry) on our Littleton farm and, though the crop is a bit late, it is plentiful.  As usual, the trees and their patrons are making quite a mess on the driveway and walkways.

American robins and house finches are the most abundant consumers, joined by magpies, crows, starlings, blue jays, cedar waxwings, lesser goldfinches and even broad-tailed hummingbirds.  Bullock's orioles are irregular visitors (one stopped by this afternoon) and western tanagers may partake of the fruit though most remain in the upper foothill forests during the summer months.  Mammalian patrons include fox squirrels, raccoons, skunks and red fox; no doubt, mice and voles also scour the ground for fallen fruit at night.

As I have mentioned in the past, mulberry trees are good trees to plant in semiarid environments.  While they attract an excellent diversity of wildlife they are also drought tolerant; I have never watered those on our property and they manage just fine with what moisture nature provides.

Crabapple Bonanza

The mild, wet spring along the Colorado Front Range has produced an abundance of crabapples on our Littleton farm.  Consumed by a wide variety of birds and mammals, the tart fruit has also been used by humans to make jam, jelly, cider and, yes, wine.

Until yesterday, I was aware that cottontails often nibbled at fallen crabapples but did not know they were such a prized component of their diet.  In the late afternoon, as thunderstorms loomed to the west, a dozen cottontails gathered beneath our largest crabapple tree, lounging in the shade and devouring the apples.  Young bunnies pushed the fruit along, nibbling at the outer pulp while adults took in the entire apple, slowly munching on the globes like cattle chewing their cud.

I suspect that my enlightenment regarding cottontails and crabapples is purely a reflection of the fruit bonanza and the ever increasing number of rabbits on our property.  I'm glad that the cottontails are enjoying the windfall but hope that the fox, hawks and owls recognize their opportunity as well!

Mulberry Days

The mulberries are finally ripening on our weeping mulberry and large mulberry trees, about two weeks late due to our relatively chilly spring.  The wildlife, unlike myself, have been more than patient but are now indulging with gusto.

American robins, house finches and fox squirrels are always the primary consumers, joined by cedar waxwings, blue jays, magpies, Bullock's orioles, spotted towhees and, if they are still around, western tanagers.  Indeed, almost all of our avian and mammalian residents partake of the tasty fruit at some point.

Drought tolerant, mulberry trees are ideal for semi-arid landscapes and our wet spring may have taken a toll; a dead branch or two adorn most of the trees and one of our larger mulberries appears to be on its way out.  But I have learned to wait before taking a saw to these trees; they are notoriously late to leaf out in spring and may appear dead well after our other trees are green and flowering.  Needless to say, I am very pleased that our mulberry days have finally arrived!

Earwigs in the Apples

On this bright, warm, autumn morning, our youngest grandson visited our Littleton Farm.  Searching for an activity that might entertain him, my wife suggested picking some of our green apples and making cinnamon apple sauce.

He, of course, enjoyed the collection process and sampled quite a few of the apples before they were processed.  Since we do not use pesticides on the farm, a good number showed signs of insect damage and earwigs emerged from a few of the cavities.  Represented by about 2000 species across the globe, these elongated, flattened insects are easily identified by the pincers at the end of their abdomen.  Females lay their eggs in protected crevices by mid autumn and, in some species, overwinter with them to offer protection; after hatching in late winter, the juveniles undergo at least four molts before they mature to adults.  Throughout these stages, they feed on a wide variety of plant and animal matter, including flowers, vegetation, fruit, other insects and carrion; since they are primarily nocturnal, earwigs are seldom encountered unless found within crops or in basements.  They, in turn, are preyed upon by a diverse group of insectivores, including amphibians, reptiles, birds and mammals.

Despite the earwig damage, most of the apple crop remained edible and the applesauce was enjoyed by all.  Though he is not yet two years old, I'm sure our grandson gained some insight into food production, watching it go from tree to stove to mouth!

A Good Year for Fruit

Despite excessive heat and a prolonged drought through the first half of summer, the fruit crop on our Littleton farm has been excellent this year.  Mulberries were abundant in June and our various apple and pear trees are more laden with fruit than I have seen in many years.

Of course, this abundance reflects the fact that we did not have a late freeze this spring.  Though some upslope snow fell in March and April, the temperature remained relatively mild and the blossoms emerged intact.  Since I am often out of town, our farm management might be described as willful neglect, characterized by minimal irrigation and no use of fertilizers or pesticides; as a result, the fruit is abundant but not terribly attractive for human consumption.  While I might snack on an apple or two, almost all of the crop is left for the wildlife.

Indeed, nocturnal squabbles have been evident this past week as raccoons and skunks raid the fallen fruit.  Squirrels, flickers and mice also partake and, in some years, mule deer wander in to feast on the bounty.  What could be better for a naturalist than trees that require no maintenance and attract a host of wild creatures? 

The Perching Tree

When we bought our Littleton, Colorado, farm in 1990, we noticed that a weeping mulberry tree, less than 10 feet from our picture window, was partly obstructing our view of the South Platte Valley and of the High Plains Escarpment to the southeast.  There was some discussion as to whether we should cut it down but, fortunately, it still stands.

During the warmer months, its dense clusters of curved branches are festooned with rich green foliage and, in early summer, it provides a copious supply of sweet red mulberries, enjoyed by humans and wildlife alike.  If one lives in the semiarid climate of the Front Range, anything that is green and provides tasty fruit is best left alone.

But it is during the colder months that I most appreciate this "ugly" tree.  It is then that a wide variety of birds perch on or within its net of barren branches.  Bathed in sunshine from dawn to dusk, the weeping mulberry attracts small songbirds such as juncos, finches, sparrows and bushtits but is also a favored resting spot for doves, jays, thrushes and woodpeckers; were I inclined toward wildlife photography, it would offer a steady supply of close-up subjects.  As it is, I'm content to merely enjoy their company, especially on cold winter days.

Chokecherry Farm

If I were to name our Littleton, Colorado, farm, I would probably choose Chokecherry Farm.  These suckering, drought-tolerant shrubs are widespread on our property, growing along borders, fence lines and our man-made structures.

Now festooned with racemes of small white flowers (well ahead of schedule due to our warm winter and spring), the shrubs will produce clusters of black cherries that attract a wide variety of birds and mammals.  Though they are a bit sour, chokecherries have long been used by humans to produce jams, sauces, jellies and wine.  Unfortunately, the foliage of chokecherries is toxic to ruminants and can be fatal to livestock if consumed in large quantities.

Native to southern Canada and the northern half of the Lower 48 States, the chokecherry is a hardy shrub, able to tolerate both cold winters and hot, dry summers.  Here along the Colorado Front Range, where water use must be curtailed, it is a valuable component of the landscape, offering beauty and a natural food source while requiring little maintenance and no irrigation.

April Snow

Following a warm, dry March (usually Metro Denver's snowiest month), I returned from Missouri to find our crab apple trees in full bloom; it was April 3 and recent rain showers had greened-up the farm, making it look more like mid April.  Mild air augmented that illusion but change would come overnight.

Upslope precipitation developed late in the evening, starting off as rain and changing over to wet snow; by the morning of April 4, three inches coated the trees, shrubs, pastures and "lawns."  Since the overnight low hovered near 33 degrees F and since the snow offers some insulation for the blossoms, it appeared that our crab apple crop might survive the early April snowstorm. But while most of the snow melted yesterday afternoon, a second wave of snow moved southward through Metro Denver last evening, re-coating the landscape with another three inches.

Such is the nature of spring in Colorado.  In my 35 years of living along the Front Range, I have found that April often produces more "winter weather" than March does (though official statistics suggest otherwise).  Of course, these late blasts of snow and cold weather have more effect on more varieties of fruit trees than those that arrive in March.  No doubt, many homeowners and orchard managers are frustrated by this annual pattern but the many benefits of living in this region are products of the same geography and climate that deliver spring snowstorms.

Apricots in Bloom

The apricot trees on out Littleton farm are in bloom this week, attracting large numbers of honeybees.  Among the earliest fruit trees to bloom in the spring, they rarely produce fruit on our property since heavy frosts and sub-freezing nights are common here in March and April.  Nevertheless, they are festooned with numerous pink-white flowers, offering nectar for the bees.

Native to Armenia, apricot trees were cultivated across the Persian Empire and were later taken to many areas of the globe;  Spanish explorers brought them to California, where most of the apricot production now occurs in the United States (Washington and Utah are also large producers).  Like peaches, this "stone fruit" will only grow in areas that have winter seasons and are thus planted in Temperate latitudes.  While they do best in sunny areas with well-drained soil, apricot trees do not tolerate excessive heat.

Here along the Colorado Front Range, their late winter beauty is a welcome sight.  If our warm weather persists, we may even get apricots this year; since I'm not fond of their taste, I'll leave them for the wildlife.

Return of the Solitaire

On this sunny, warm October day, our resident solitaire has returned from the mountains.  While it may not be the same individual who winters on the farm each year, it is usually a single Townsend's solitaire, mingling with robins and waxwings in our western junipers.

Having summered and bred in the mountain forests, from ponderosa parklands to timberline spruce, these streamlined thrushes head for the lower foothills and adjacent Piedmont during the colder months of the year.  There they are often inconspicuous except when calling from the top of a conifer; rather possessive of their juniper berry crop, they seem to tolerate other species but chase fellow solitaires from the grove.

Our winter tenant will remain on the farm until mid April or so, oblivious of the frigid nights and heavy snowstorms.  He is, of course, a welcome visitor, especially when his high-pitched call rings through the cold, dry winter air.

Wild Grape Vines

Today I engaged in my semiannual attempt to control wild grape vines throughout the wood border of our Columbia, Missouri, property.  While the fruit of this fast growing vine is an important food source for many songbirds and mammals, the aggressive vines can cause significant damage to trees and shrubs, blocking sunlight and weighing down the supporting plants.

Native to humid, Temperate areas of the Northern Hemisphere, wild grape vines are represented by at least 60 species; of course, domesticated grape vines are derived from these wild species.  Most wild grape vines (unlike domesticated species) produce only male or female flowers on any given plant; these flowers, which appear during the second year of new growth, are pollinated by the wind and yield loose clumps of purple-black grapes by late summer.  Seeds are dispersed by wildlife that feast on the fruit but new growth may also sprout from older vine stumps (as many homeowners know all too well).  Frequent cutting of the vines is the most ecologic means of controlling their expansion.

When I was a pre-teen in the woods of Greater Cincinnati (see Wonderland), large grape vines were a godsend, allowing us to swing out over ponds or creek beds.  As an adult homeowner, my image of these prolific plants has become far less positive.

A Mulberry Bonanza

It's a good year for mulberries along the Colorado Front Range.  Indeed, the mulberry trees on our Littleton farm are loaded with fruit, attracting a wide variety of wildlife.

American robins and house finches are the primary consumers, clogging the trees for most of the day; less common visitors include cedar waxwings, Bullock's orioles, spotted towhees and gray catbirds and wandering opportunists such as magpies and starlings.  Raccoons and skunks feed on fallen fruit as do red fox and coyotes that hunt on the farm.  While the red fruit on the weeping mulberry is sweet, we humans are not generally fond of the tart, white mulberries on the larger trees.

Of course, there is a drawback to this mulberry bonanza.  Two of the trees sit close to the house and, unfortunately, near the two entrance doors.  Despite the best efforts of our avian residents, most of the fruit ends up on the ground, on the roof and in the gutters; those that litter the entrance walkways are most problematic, requiring regular cleanup to keep squashed mulberries off the soles of our shoes and out of the house.

Peaches

Having traveled through the Peach State this week, it seems appropriate to consider the nature of that fruit.  Native to China, peaches were later introduced to Persia and were cultivated in the Mediterranean region during the Roman Empire.  Spanish explorers brought peaches to the Americas in the 1500s and the fruit was later taken back to northern Europe on English and French ships.

Since an annual period of cold weather is required for flowering, peach trees are best cultivated in the Temperate Zone.  Members of the rose family and the genus Prunus (which also includes other "drupes" such as plums, cherries, apricots and almonds), peaches and nectarines are variants of the same species; the fuzzy skin of peaches is a dominant genetic trait while the smooth skin of nectarines is a recessive trait.  Both peaches and nectarines may be of the clingstone or freestone variety, depending on whether the pulp clings to the seed husk or not; a large number of cultivars exist for both fruits, characterized by differences in size, color and taste.

Since peach trees flower in early spring (generally in March in the Temperate Zone of the U.S.), their blossoms often succumb to frost or a hard freeze in more northern portions or higher elevation regions of their cultivation range.  Indeed, the peach tree on our Littleton, Colorado, farm has only managed to produce fruit a few times in the past 25 years!

Wild Plum

By mid April, stands of wild plum are readily observed along the Colorado Front Range.  Their clusters of white flowers, appearing before the leaves, adorn the barren limbs; favoring relatively moist soil and full sun exposure, this native shrub (or small tree) grows along streams and in sunny areas of foothill canyons.  Spines often appear on the rigid stems and the leaves, which begin to unfold as the flowers fade, have a finely serrated edge.

The reddish plums appear by early summer and are consumed by a wide variety of birds and small mammals; mule and white-tailed deer also brows on their leaves and stems.  Like other shrubs of the Colorado Piedmont and Front Range foothills, wild plum is drought and cold tolerant and is spread across the semiarid landscape in the droppings of wildlife that feed on its fruit.

Fortunately, developers and homeowners along the urban corridor have utilized wild plum in decorative plantings.  By choosing native plants that are well adapted to the Front Range climate, we minimize the need for supplemental water and artificial fertilizers while supporting the welfare of native wildlife species.