A Refuge by Neglect

Throughout the history of this Blog, I have repeatedly suggested that the establishment of wild borders on one's property is a good way to attract a greater diversity of wildlife.  After all, a variety of native plants is more appealing to regional birds, mammals and other creatures, offering seeds, berries, nuts and vegetation that they prefer to consume; of course, insects are also drawn to such natural oases, providing yet another source of food.

An excellent example of my theory has unfolded across the street from our home, where a neighbor's house has been renovated while its front lawn, destroyed by the building activity, has yet to be replaced.  Now sporting a hodgepodge of native "weeds" and grasses, it has become a popular feeding ground for many local birds; white-tailed deer have also stopped by to munch on the broad mix of plants.

Though unsightly from a typical suburbanite's point of view, I have found this temporary refuge to be interesting.  No doubt, its varied vegetation and "clearings" are of more interest to wildlife than the dense carpet of a manicured lawn.

See also: Lose Some Lawn  

Back in Dry Country

Driving back to Colorado this morning, the landscape was noticeably drier than usual from the High Plains westward.  None of the rivers (except for the South Platte) held water and the grasslands had browned out, an unusual appearance for April, one of the snowiest months along the Front Range.

Of course, the desiccated landscape reflects the unusually warm and snowless winter in this region.  The small amount of snow received from the most recent Pacific storm was not enough to make a difference and has already disappeared.  Here on our Littleton farm, the shrubs and pastures have held up well but our "lawns" are not the least bit green.  In addition, the recent hard freeze killed off the unfurling leaves in many of the trees but these should recover as the temperature rebounds.

Indeed, we expect warm, sunny weather for the next week; no rain is forecast until next weekend.  As always, the dry air has its benefits: cool nights and more tolerable daytime heat.  But we desperately need precipitation, in any form; perhaps May will bring a welcome change. 

Greenery Rising

Yesterday afternoon, as a steady south wind brought warm, humid air into central Missouri, I rescued our Beetle from the garage and headed for the country.  Escorted by turkey vultures, sailing along in the cloudy sky, I did not encounter many birds or mammals but I was taken by the greenery, ascending from the lush grass, through the shrub lines and into the trees.

Our recent warm, wet weather had produced the transition from winter browns to these many shades of green, the product of chlorophyll, the fuel of life on Earth.  Absorbing carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen, green plants sustain our atmosphere, long threatened by the burning of fossil fuels.

Of course, the leaves themselves feed a wide variety of life forms, from microbes to insects to mammals, ourselves included.  Following the fickle weather of March, this explosion of greenery in April is always a welcome spectacle. 

The Thaw Begins

After two weeks of frigid weather and a period of heavy snow, a thaw has begun in central Missouri.  Though overnight lows may dip below freezing, afternoon highs are expected to gradually climb over the next ten days.

Down at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this afternoon, the amount of open water had increased, attracting a mix of gadwall, mallards, green-winged teal and ring-necked ducks.  Except for a northern harrier and a few members of the sparrow family, bird sightings were otherwise limited.

But the current forecast is reassuring, fortifying my conviction that February should be considered the first month of spring.  The birth of great horned owls, the nesting activity of magpie and crows, the northward migration of geese,  the drumming and hysterical call of flickers, increasing birdsong and the blooming of early bulb plants all signal the gradual change of seasons.  Following the extreme cold in January, the coming thaw will be especially welcome. 

Frederick Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park

Having heard that Grand Rapids has a nice botanical gardens, we headed inland this morning.  That decision was well rewarded.

The Frederick Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park covers 158 acres in the northeast quadrant of Metro Grand Rapids.  Offering a pleasant mix of gardens, water features and natural habitat,  it is accessed by a network of paved trails and boardwalks.  A wide variety of sculptures are spaced throughout the property and greenhouses protect tropical, desert and carnivorous plants.  A fine outdoor amphitheater also graces the Park.

While it is a beautiful and well landscaped display of flora and sculptures, this botanical gardens, like some others I have encountered, makes little effort to label the plants, thereby reducing its value as an educational experience.  In that regard, it does not connect with those (myself included) who want to learn about the many species that adorn its confines.

Monsoon Deficiency

Returning to our Littleton, Colorado, farm, it is clear that the Southwest Monsoon has not yet kicked in with sufficient vigor.  The "lawns" and pastures have browned and the shrubs appear desperate for a good soaking.

Indeed, the Monsoon flow of moisture is late at best; perhaps it will not arrive at all.  Having owned the property for thirty-five years, we have certainly experienced good and bad monsoon seasons.  It remains to be seen how global warming will affect this annual weather phenomenon; it could go either way.

Since the Monsoon generally peaks from mid August to early September in this region, it is too early to know if it will be a bust for 2025.  If so, we may have to wait for October snow, a bit late for our thirsty vegetation.  

The Peak of Verdancy

Across central latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere, early June brings the peak of verdancy.  Fueled by moist soil and the lengthening period of sunlight, greenery abounds.  In some areas, certain trees have just recently leafed out and prolonged episodes of heat have not yet materialized.

In concert, all forms of wildlife are taking advantage of the lush growth and, in the case of birds and mammals, adults are busily attending to their offspring.  Consequently, it is a great time for birders and other wildlife enthusiasts to visit our parks and nature preserves.

By later in the month, the intense sun will begin to take a toll and plant life will rely on roving bands of summer thunderstorms for vital moisture.  Adaptation to heat will then become the focus of plants, wild creatures and humans alike.  So enjoy the verdancy of late spring while it lasts; climate change may soon alter both the nature and the timing of this seasonal transition.

A Rose from the East

Though we have several types of roses on our Littleton, Colorado, farm, our wild, yellow roses are, by far, the most abundant.  They are, to the best of my limited botanical knowledge, Harison's yellow roses, said to have been brought west on the wagon trains.

When we purchased our property, almost 35 years ago, there were a few clumps of these attractive flowers scattered about the farm.  We were energetic enough to relocate some of them, an endeavor that proved to be unnecessary.  Aggressive and possessing stems laden with countless small spines, these roses fend for themselves and spread along borders with ease.

Favoring relatively cool, dry environments, this rose species thrives throughout most of Colorado and its dense blooms, occurring in mid May at our elevation, can be spectacular.  Efforts to keep them from invading our "lawns" were abandoned some time ago and these hardy plants do just fine without artificial irrigation. 

Flashback Post LXIV

March and April tend to be fickle months in the American Heartland, a fact I acknowledged in a post back on April 1, 2012.

See: Fooled by March 

Colorful May in Colorado

Since snowstorms and periods of cold weather characterize March and April along the Colorado Front Range, May is generally the most colorful month of the year.  Even typically early flowers, such as grape hyacinths and tulips, grace this last month of meteorologic spring.

Our Littleton farm is more colorful than it has been in years.  Purple mustard and dandelions adorn the "lawns" while lilac, wild plum, Oregon grape and chokecherry shrubs are also in bloom.  The apple and crabapple trees are just about to flower and various roses will adorn the property before the month ends.

Since the abundant moisture of March and April fuels this growth, the greenery of our pastures, shrubs and small trees is also lush and will spread across the canopy of the taller trees as the month progresses.  Late day thunderstorms, typical of May and June, will nurture this colorful landscape until it all fades in the dry heat of July and early August.  Fortunately, the Southwest Monsoon arrives by late summer, rescuing our plants from the intense Colorado sunshine.

Sargassum on Longboat Key

As I reported in March of 2023, the "Sargassum Sea" has been expanding in the Atlantic Ocean, likely due to nitrogen pollutants and warmer sea waters.  While this algal seaweed is a natural component of Subtropical marine environments,  it can "soil" beaches and cause damage to reefs if its annual bloom is excessive.

For the beaches of South Florida, the period from April through July is generally the peak season for sargassum "landfalls."  Ocean currents, storms and prevailing winds determine which beaches will be most affected and, yesterday morning, we encountered the largest swath that we have ever observed on Longboat Key.  Since this long, narrow barrier island is angled from northwest to southeast, it is not surprising that the NW tip was the site of our discovery (see photo).

While humans may not be pleased with such an accumulation of seaweed, the shorebirds were clearly attracted to this nutritious windfall, scouring its surface for a wide variety of marine invertebrates and their eggs.  Ruddy turnstones, willets and sanderlings were the primary diners.

See: The Sargassum Belt 

Mulching Days

Granted a mild, sunny weekend and knowing that our next spring snowstorm is just a few days away, it seemed like a good time to spread some mulch.  Fortunately, we have a massive pile of mulch on our Littleton farm, having accumulated over 33 years of running dead limbs through a chipper; we produce more than we use each year.

Though we are letting the farm naturalize, we must protect young trees, shrubs and flower bed from damage when our "lawns" and pastures are mowed.  As any gardener knows, the mulch also helps to retain moisture in the soil, a significant benefit in this semi-arid climate.  Frankly, I enjoy mulching; it affords plenty of exercise but can be accomplished gradually.  I often stop to check out new spring growth or, of course, to watch the birdlife.

During my labors today, I was fortunate to be joined by a cheerful flock of bushtits.  Soon to pair off and raise their new offspring, they seemed to be enjoying the pleasant weather as much as I was.  I appreciated both their company and their kind excuse for a break. 

Wild Onion Greenery

Following a week of relatively mild weather, clumps of wild onion have emerged across our lawns, offering early spring greenery; they will soon be joined by dandelions and wild violets.

Native to eastern and central North America, these perennials are easily identified by their strong onion odor.  The leaves emerge from underground bulbs, festooned with rootlets; a rigid, central stem rises in summer and showy domes of pink or white flowers adorn its tip from mid summer to mid autumn.

No doubt, suburbanites enamored with pristine lawns are annoyed by the appearance of these plants.  On the other hand, all parts of the wild onion are edible and a quick scan of the internet turned up more culinary articles than those devoted to control recommendations. 

The Tide of Spring

Contrary to traditional definitions of Spring, it is not a confined season that begins on March 1 or on the spring equinox.  In reality, it is a gradual transition from winter to summer and its earliest events begin by late January.

The nesting of great horned owls is one of those early events and the process gradually accelerates through February.  Many small mammals mate during this month; indeed, cottontails generally produce their first litter before February ends.  Magpies and some hawks engage in courtship behavior, migrant geese head north, bird song intensifies and many bulb plants bloom during this first full month of spring.

Sure, some of the heaviest snowstorms and strongest Nor'easters occur in February but the higher sun and longer days gradually take a toll on winter's grip.  Crocuses and hyacinths in sun-exposed areas offer the first convincing evidence for many suburbanites but those attuned to nature's magnificent diversity take note of spring far earlier. 

Nature's Debris

Now that we have enjoyed the colorful foliage of October, we humans watch as leaves, twigs, needles and seedpods collect on our roofs, lawns, walkways and driveways throughout November.  Of course, this natural plant material is referred to as "debris" only because it lands on our unnatural structures and surfaces.

Were it not for this seasonal rain of dead vegetation and seeds, we would not have forests.  Even our suburban landscapes would be healthier if we were not so fastidious about cleaning it up.  Offering nutrients for the parent plant as well as neighboring vegetation, the debris is recycled by fungi and a host of invertebrates.  Of course, the seeds will yield new trees in the spring, often in areas where we may not want them (e.g. flower beds).

How we approach nature's life cycle is generally a reflection of how connected we feel with the natural world.  By the end of the month, many will have bagged up and shipped off most of the material.  Some of us just rearrange it a bit. 

Ecosystem in a Box

Back in 2014, I constructed a compost bin for our yard in Columbia, Missouri.  Not an avid or talented carpenter, it was simply constructed with treated lumber and cedar fence slats; about 4 cubic feet in size, it has a hinged lid but no access for removing the nutrient-rich product.

Nevertheless, it has provided a convenient and environment-friendly structure for recycling yard and kitchen "waste."  In concert, it has offered an up-close look at a fascinating ecosystem, from the bacteria, fungi and invertebrates that break down the vegetation to the spiders, skinks and, I suspect, wrens that feast on them.  As one might expect, activity in the bin is especially intense during the hot, humid days of summer.

Of course, the bin is generally full by early spring (after several months of loading) but rapidly "empties" when the warm, wet weather returns.  The fact that I have not removed any compost over the past nine years attests to the efficiency of its confined ecosystem.

Cholla Cactus

Like our linden (discussed yesterday), our cholla cactus is another plant that blooms in July.  Also like the linden, it was well developed when we purchased the farm more than three decades ago; I suspect it is at least fifty years old.

Cholla cacti are represented by some 35 species, native to deserts of the Western Hemisphere.  Their cylindrical branches are covered with fine, barbed spines and their flower color varies with the species; our resident cactus is adorned with bright red flowers in mid summer (see photo) while most cholla species flower in late spring or early summer.

Needless to say, the cholla does well in the semi-arid Front Range climate and our only maintenance has been to trim nearby tree branches to keep them from shading this sun-loving plant.  To my knowledge, we have no resident wildlife that feed on the cactus though broad-tailed hummingbirds and various insects likely feast on the floral nectar. 

Greener than Ever

Returning to our Littleton, Colorado, farm, we found that it is greener than ever before (at least since we bought the property, 33 years ago).  Thanks to a wet spring and early summer, even our "lawns" are densely carpeted with vegetation.

In most years, the farm has lost is spring verdancy by mid June, entering a hot, dry period until monsoon thunderstorms revive the plants in August.  As I discussed in a post last August, global warming may gradually alter the ecosystems of the American Southwest and the steady rains along the Front Range this year may be another sign of that effect.

After a few sunny days, thunderstorms are expected to return by the end of the week.  Whether the Southwest Monsoon is prolonged or just early this year will become evident over the next few months.  For now, our plants are enjoying the water and we appreciate the lush greenery.

If it's Green, Let it Be

In the interest of protecting natural ecosystems, some conservationists devote a considerable amount of time and energy to rid them of invasive species.  Unfortunately, their well-meaning zealotry both eliminates a significant amount of photosynthetic activity (i.e. carbon capture) and, in many cases, introduces toxic agents into the environment.

While homeowners certainly have the right to control "weeds," invasive vines and other undesirable plants on their property, nature should be left alone in protected and recovering ecosystems.  Furthermore, the use of toxic herbicides should be banned whenever and wherever possible.

In my experience, campaigns to eliminate non-native, invasive plants are rarely successful though some temporary emotional reward may be experienced by the warriors.  Let nature be.  We need all of the carbon capture that she can muster. 

Tree those Lawns!

Even though Columbia, Missouri, is a relatively small city, there are a disturbing number of massive lawns across the community.  Some are associated with homes while most front businesses and companies.  This scenario is surely duplicated in most cities across the U.S.

Most of these lawns are purely for show; they certainly serve no natural purpose, with the possible dubious exception of feeding Canada geese.  At the same time, they absorb an alarming amount of chemicals (fertilizers, herbicides and insecticides) while requiring excessive irrigation and regular mowing with gas-guzzling equipment.

Why not plant trees on those massive carpets?  They offer shade, wildlife habitat, beauty, relatively low maintenance and significant CO2 absorption.  No need for lawn masters; hire arborists!