Spring Surprises in the Courtyard Garden

Suddenly the temperatures appear to have decided they're tired of dropping below freezing. Not to be outdone, the soaking spring rains have put in a couple appearances in the last week or so. To top it all off, the sun has come out in between the rains and provided enough warmth to jumpstart the plants...and, wow, spring finally appears to have arrived for good.

I had written off quite a few shade plants in my courtyard garden late last summer, when they seemed to dry up and disappear much earlier than normal seasonal deciduousness would warrant. With the final arrival of warmer weather this spring, though, I'm realizing that I was too hasty. Almost all of my hostas are boldly pushing up, the heucheras are magically adding leaves by the dozens, the hellebores are finally putting on enough new growth they don't look terminally freezer-burned, and...(Ta-dah!) a few fern fiddleheads are unrolling through the leaf litter.

I really didn't think there was any way that ANY of the ferns would make it. Having re-whetted my desire for ferns after 6 years in Mobile, I'd consulted books and local fern folks and put in 3 each of 4 different species that I thought had a reasonable chance of making it here in south-central Kansas: autumn fern, log fern, Japanese painted fern, and Japanese holly fern. I'd put them in late, though, then accidentally let the entire garden get too dry during a sudden weather change in late summer from "relatively cool & amazingly wet" to "dry & windy & rather hot." Predictably, the ferns pretty much folded up shop...and I chalked their demise up to my tendency to be just a little too laissez-faire sometimes.

So I could hardly believe my eyes yesterday when I spotted a fiddlehead emerging from the leaf litter, back in the corner where I'd planted the log ferns. Looking more carefully, I spotted a couple more fiddleheads that weren't up quite as high yet. Two of the 3 log ferns have definitely survived the winter!

Then I checked out the other ferns: 2 out of 3 of the Japanese painted ferns AND 2 out of 3 of the autumn ferns are definitely putting up new growth. So far it's only the Japanese holly ferns that appear to have taken the late summer assault personally.

While I'm celebrating the survival of some of my ferns, I also have to share a new favorite plant of mine that lives in the courtyard garden: liverleaf. It's a horrible name for a plant that I think is extremely cute and lovable. I bought the plants, which were labeled as Hepatica americana, at the Dyck Arboretum sale last spring, but after doing some web research, I suspect they are actually Hepatica acutiloba. Either way, the common name liverleaf will do. They're native to the woodlands of Missouri, but I'm not sure they naturally occur this far west.

Each plant is about the size of a violet this year. They looked like gray, hairy fungi as they were coming up, then they unfurled into these classy-looking sweethearts. My only disappointment is that they didn't bloom for me this year. Maybe next year.

I'm having so much fun going around and watching plants emerge that it's hard for me to settle down and concentrate on my spring gardening chores! A few newbies from last year are getting ready to bloom soon, so this proud new Mama will probably be sharing pictures of her new babies' first blooms in the near future. Be forewarned!

Unexpected Guests

Another new species for the property! While I was talking on the phone with my mother this morning, I noticed a "new" bird in the trees around the feeder.

A yellow-headed blackbird!!!

As I continued watching, about half a dozen slowly showed themselves, taking advantage of the easy pickin's at the feeder. There is absolutely no mistaking what species of bird these guys are!

A Rose By Any Other Name....

I am wanting to give our acreage a name. Somehow it feels like naming this little area will help solidify its identity as a particular spot on this planet, giving it more substance and gravitas. Ideally the name will carry connotations of our goal of prairie restoration, as well as bringing to mind the peace that living here brings us and the plants and animals that share this spot with us.

I started playing with some form of "Windswept" when we first moved here, but lately I've decided that has a slightly negative feel to it. So I changed it to "Wind Dance" but something still isn't solidying. "Prairie Haven" came to mind, but that seems a little banal. And there I'm stuck.

Something with "meadowlark" in it, since they nest in our back 5 acres? What else could I use to symbolize our little bit of prairie?

If you have any ideas or suggestions, please let me know. Inspiration isn't striking me, so I hope by putting the question out into the blogosphere, it will grace someone else and then sneak in the back door to us. At any rate, I'm keeping my fingers crossed!

Burn, Baby, Burn!

Along with (apparently) 107 other folks in Sedgwick County, we took advantage of light winds last Wednesday to burn our grassland.

Not all of it, of course, just the front tallgrass. To continue decreasing sweetclover and prairie three-awn grass, we had wanted to burn the back 5 acres again this spring, but the draw has held water all winter long and we can't get the tractor across it to mow the firebreaks. So we settled for burning off the remnants of 2 years' growth in the big bluestem-Indiangrass-brome mix that constitutes the front prairie on our place, between the house and the street.

The burn went very well overall. There were only a few "Oh, no!" moments when the wind suddenly seemed to switch or, most excitingly, when a big dust devil formed. The dust devil was especially interesting. It formed right behind the fire line, danced across the blackened, smoking area that had just finished burning, shimmied across the firebreak, and melted into a big cedar by the creek. Since it had stirred up a hot spot and picked up a few live embers just before it crossed the firebreak and entered the cedar, we could have had a real big problem on our hands, but luck was with us. Greg immediately went over (with the hose) to check it out, dousing the area in general, but nothing seemed to have ignited.

As we got past the pine trees and cedar trees that formed a potential "ladder" to the house, I felt confident enough to snap a couple pictures of the burn, but with only 3 of us (Prairiewolf, his Dad, and me) tending the fire, I didn't want to take my attention away from my side of the fire in the early stages of the burn.

It was a good, complete burn...and, less than a week later, I'm already seeing new green sprouts coming up through the black ashes. It will be fun to see if we've released any leftover wildflowers that had been overshadowed by the tallgrasses around them. It's amazing how much the prairie can change from year to year, when you know what to look for.

Learning a Bit About Black-Footed Ferrets in Kansas

Last night, Prairiewolf and I attended an interesting lecture at Dyck Arboretum on the reintroduction of the black-footed ferrets (an endangered species) into western Kansas. The speaker was Dan Mulhern, of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. He's a wildlife biologist in charge of the re-introduction project here in Kansas.

A few interesting facts that Dan shared with us....

Black-footed ferrets require large colonies of prairie dogs to survive. Prairie dogs are the ferrets' only food. Not only do they eat them, the ferrets live in the colonies along with the prairie dogs (actually living in the prairie dog burrows). A single ferret will eat about 200 "dogs" per year. While this seems like a fair number of prairie dogs to eat, the ferrets do not occur at a dense enough population to control the prairie dog populations. (Of course, ferrets are far from the only animal that preys on prairie dogs! Prairie dogs are "lucky" enough to be food for a great many other predators - many of whose populations are also in trouble, due to the declining numbers of prairie dogs.)

An aside here: Prairie dogs are seen by cattle ranchers as extremely threatening competitors for grass. Thus ranchers have traditionally done everything they can, including massive poisoning campaigns, to get rid of prairie dogs. The poisons used, not surprisingly, kill many other, "non-target" animals too, from eagles and badgers to turkeys, burrowing owls, and black-footed ferrets.

Black-footed ferrets were thought to be extinct for several years in the 1970's. Luckily a small population was discovered in Wyoming. Because of the threat of sylvatic plague killing off this last population, these animals were captured and formed the basis of a captive breeding program.

All known black-footed ferrets alive today are descended from 7 individual animals captured from that Wyoming population.

Ferret re-introduction is far from a "sure thing," especially in Kansas. In this state, local governmental units have the legal right to go on private property and poison prairie dogs, even if the property owner specifically wants the prairie dogs on his or her property and/or doesn't want the poison used. There have been legal battles being fought over the prairie dog colonies that form the home ground for many of the reintroduced black-footed ferrets on a large block of land owned by 3 landowners. The Logan County government is trying to assert its "legal right" to poison these prairie dog colonies, and the land-owners are trying to keep them from being able to do so. For a while, the case was being tried in Shawnee County; recently the venue for the case has been changed to Logan County itself.

In the meantime, almost 50 years to the day since a black-footed ferret was last seen alive in Kansas, 24 ferrets were released in Logan County on December 18, 2007. Thirty-three percent (33%, or 8 animals) were confirmed to survive the first winter and by the fall of 2008, 4 litters of ferrets had been observed with a confirmed observation of 16 individuals. Fifty more ferrets were released last fall. Just 2 weeks ago, the second over-wintering survival survey was done. Dan reported that they located 19 ferrets, for a survival rate of at least 29%. (While these survival rates seem low, they are actually a little high for ferret re-introduction projects.) At least 7 of the ferrets located this month are females, so hopefully more litters will be born this summer.

It's an exciting and hopeful project, an attempt to right a wrong that we humans should never have let happen. Will it be successful? There is no way of knowing. Not only do the ferrets face the normal, biological hurdles of predation, disease, and the vagaries of weather, they also face the immense hurdle of human political pressure against the prairie dogs they depend upon. That's the wildest card of all.

What a Pansy I Was!

I have been seduced...by a pair of blue pansies and a fragrant, lavendar and yellow viola.

For years I have been staunchly anti-annual. "What a waste of time and money!" "Why plant something that you know is going to die soon...when you can spend a little bit more and have a plant that comes back year after year after year?" "Why would I want to plant something that I know I'm just going to have to plant again next year?"

About a week ago, though, on a rather cold and windy day, I stopped off at one of our local garden centers. There, in the greenhouse, were beautiful big baskets of gorgeous blue and white pansies, some with ruffled edges and others without. I just had to have a few to brighten the gloomy day.

Of course, in my normal way of over-doing it, I didn't buy just one of each. Oh, no. I bought 2 sixpacks of each. The next day I found a single, one gallon pot of Starry Night viola on a table at Lowe's. I could smell the fragrance from several feet away. That pot joined the pansies on the breezeway.

Finally today I started planting them. I'm trying to tuck them here and there, "naturally", among my prairie perennials and assorted hardy garden plants. They actually are making a very pretty combination with what's left of my daffodil blossoms! The Starry Night viola is going to grace the little table by my wicker rockers out front. That way I can have the fragrance "up close and personal" (as long as I can keep the container plant alive!).

To justify my fall from "perennials-only" principle, I've actually decided that, as far as annuals go, violas and pansies aren't bad. Violas/pansies/violets are larval plants for many of the fritillary butterflies. I have the little (native) johnny-jump-ups, Viola bicolor, all over the place anyway. Why not include some of their bigger cousins in my flowerbeds? After all, their rich blue faces make me smile.

Ranger Tries Again

Well, you can't say that he doesn't try!

I've mentioned that Ranger hasn't mastered bird hunting yet, much to my relief. It's not for lack of trying, though.

His first efforts involved quick darts from under the deck towards the bird feeders. The birds, naturally, just flew away.

So Ranger got trickier. About a month ago I saw him rolling in the grass and birdseed debris, then lying quietly next to the feeder. Camoflage?

That didn't work, so he quit bothering the birds for a while. The cotton rats were much easier prey and readily available. They must have gotten boring though, because he's back to trying for the birds again.

Today I saw a couple new techniques. First there was the stealth approach.....

When 30 minutes under the feeder didn't work, he decided that, "If the birds won't come to me, I'll go to them!" So up in the tree he went.

Nothing magically appeared, so he checked out the "link" between the finch feeder and the tree branch.

That wasn't fruitful. Maybe this basket of fat hanging here?

Still no luck. And while Ranger is ingenious at trying out new approaches, his patience is rather limited. So he quit for today...and the birds rapidly flew back in to reclaim their territory.

I shouldn't laugh, because one of these days he's going to be successful, but it's still rather humorous to see his repeated attempts. Maybe we should have named him Edison (of the Thousand and One Steps to Success)!

Further Adventures of Ranger, the Electro-Cat

Okay, the title is a little misleading. As long as Ranger gets to spend massive quantities of time outside, he's basically leaving electrical cords alone inside. I don't dare dangle them in front of him, though. He's definitely an opportunist!

Luckily with all of the time he spends outside, Ranger has not proven to be too adept at catching birds. (Yes, I'm knocking on wood - at least metaphorically - as I say that!) Animal-snob that I guess I am, I'm not too worried about the hispid cotton rat population that seems to provide him with the most frequent victims. It'll be another matter altogether if he starts getting Harris sparrows, Carolina wrens or goldfinch.

Anyway, I got quite a laugh last week when he suddenly discovered a fox squirrel that comes in occasionally to bulk up at the feeders. As I stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes, the first thing I noticed was a rusty blur streaking along the ground and up a tree. Then a black blur followed close behind it. When the action paused, the squirrel was high up in the branches of the green ash, chattering and flicking its tail vigorously, not letting its eyes leave Ranger. Ranger actually disappointed me - he climbed up in the tree and seemed to study all the angles for several minutes, but abandoned the chase that day after barely getting 1/3 of the way to his quarry.

By the next day, he was more determined, however, and worked his way at least halfway up the tree before deciding to go after easier prey. (Maybe the grayer day just had him more inclined to chase away his boredom.)

I'm quite sure that the squirrel can balance on far smaller branches than Ranger can, but it's going to be interesting to see how far out a limb Ranger is willing to go!

Late March Bird Tales

One of the most fascinating things to watch during a winter storm is the behavior of the birds. Given the number that showed up at my feeders during this storm, there must not be much natural food left around. This mob is a mix of red-winged blackbirds, cardinals, grackles, Harris sparrows, white crowned sparrows, and starlings. Judging from my usual mix, you can probably find a few house sparrows, a few house finch, some goldfinch and pine siskins, and a few juncos in the melee too.

On Friday I had fun watching a standoff between a starling and a red-bellied woodpecker, both determined to dominate one of the suet feeders. Obviously the cardinals thought it was pretty interesting too! (Oh, the red-bellied woodpecker won...at least temporarily. As soon as he was through, however, the starling came back with a couple friends and worked hard to reduce the amount of suet left. That'll teach the red-bellied!)

The cardinals come in to feed regularly throughout each day, usually in groups of 5-7. In the evening and during storms, though, I've counted over 20 at a time using the feeders or waiting for their turn. If you look carefully (and probably enlarge the photo a bit), I count 22 (15 males and 7 females) in this shot.

Spring Snow Storm

As I mentioned in my last post, starting on Friday we've been living through a spring storm. This particular storm seemed mixed up - it couldn't decide if it was a sleet storm, a freezing rain/ice storm, a snow storm, or a thunderstorm, so it gave us a fair amount of everything.

Today the temperatures are back up in the upper 40's and the remaining precipitation of all forms, leftover on the ground, is starting to rapidly melt. I'm not sure how my plants are going to be affected for the year, though, since many had already started to leaf out significantly, some even to bud and flower. So I took a few photos this morning....

The daylily foliage looked transparent and glassy where it stuck above the snow mix. Daylilies are hardy plants and I'm sure they won't take any lasting damage...but how ugly will they be this spring? Will all of this lovely new growth crumple and wither as soon as it melts?

This clump of yellow tulips came with the house, but the first year we were here it was almost nonexistent. Each spring it's gotten fuller, healthier and sported many more blossoms. This year it was holding close to a dozen buds, surrounded by a healthy number of leaves. The tulip blooms had just started opening a day or two before the storm hit. I can see some breakage...what will the total damage be?

I rescued this lovely bunch of peonies from an old garden in the area that was due to be sold. The timing was such that I had to move them during the heat of the summer, so they looked bad for quite a while last summer, then finally gave up the ghost and died back. I thought I'd lost them for good. I was really excited when they came up so vigorously this spring, but now their early emergence isn't so positive anymore....

Throughout the yard, there are so many other plants affected that I can't begin to list them all here. This is a photo looking down my courtyard perennial bed: the Dames' rocket clump in the foreground is definitely bedraggled and the leaves on the lilacs and Amur maples look suspiciously fragile. Will we have lilac blossoms and maple seeds? How sparse or "burned back" will their leaves be? Buried under the snow at the foot of the lilacs are grape hyacinths, sprouts from variegated Solomon's seal, Lamium and assorted other perennials beginning to wake up from their winter rest. I'm incurably optimistic about plants' ability to survive, but only time will tell how well.

Unappreciated Luxuries

Friday brought a sudden interruption to the beautiful spring weather. A spring storm descended with wickedly strong north winds, temperatures just below freezing, and lots and lots of sleet. All in all, though, that day wasn't so bad.

When we went to bed on Friday night, though, I noticed on my last trip out that it seemed to be raining lightly. That wasn't so good.

I, unfortunately, turned out to be correct both as to the type of precipitation coming down and as to my sense of foreboding. Yesterday morning when we woke up, the house was unnaturally quiet and rather chilly - the electricity had gone out during the night, leaving us without heat and without water. For starters.

The telephone line followed shortly thereafter.

I try hard to be aware and appreciative of the common things in life that we tend to take for granted, but every time the electricity goes off, I am brought up hard against the reality of how much I count on its steady presence in my life.

Anticipating possible interruptions in service, we were fine as to drinking water. Flushing, though, became a luxury. The house maintained its inside temperature reasonably well, considering the winds howling outside. (Thankfully the outside temperatures were in the upper 20's, not in the single digits or below.) After about 9 hours, the house temperature had only gone down 5 degrees.

Life, however, seemed suddenly put on hold. I needed to sort the clothes in my closet...but the thought of changing in and out of a series of outfits to check their fit seemed abhorent in the chilly temperatures. I needed to start my tomatoes, peppers and some herbs...but we had no water to moisten the germinating mix or to fill the reservoirs. I needed (badly) to sort the recycling paper...but it's boring enough while watching a movie; the thought of doing it without any sort of mental distraction seemed unbearable.

The cats and dog were grumpy because we wouldn't play the "Let the cat (dog) in, let the cat (dog) out" game.

And Prairiewolf and I were grumpy because we didn't have our appropriate morning caffeine drinks...having forgotten to buy any Coleman fuel for the camp stove.

So what did I miss the most over the course of the day? A shower - any shower, but preferably hot - and hot coffee. Seemingly minor, everyday things...but yesterday I realized what an unappreciated luxury they each are in my life.

Springtime Serenade

It's evening on St. Patty's Day. The temperature reached the upper 70's today, the sun shone brightly, the wind was light and breezy - in short, it was an idyllic spring day.

I put in the rest of the strawberries we had bought 10 days ago, leaving me with enough bed space for 24 more plants. I think I'll try a 3rd variety there - we saw Quinealt (a June-bearing variety) at Johnson's the other day. Or maybe I should put in 24 more Ozark Beauties? That would give me more everbearing plants, as well as hide a few of the everbearers on the backside of the bed, in case the cotton rats come calling from the tall grass.

I'd begun to despair of my "gamble garden", planted back on March 7th, but today I saw the first glimpses of green coming up in the area that I had planted to Drunken Woman lettuce. (I couldn't resist the name when I was ordering from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange!) Hopefully the peas, spinach, and the other lettuce variety I put in won't be too far behind.

Next, I "woke up" the front flower bed. Actually, no, that's taking way too much credit for myself. I should say that I noticed that many of the perennials in it were waking up on their own, so I "turned down their covers" by removing most of last year's growth and many of the leaves that had accumulated around their crowns over the winter. For once I did this early enough that I wasn't dodging all that new growth!

The entire time I worked I was serenaded by a combination of chorus frogs and birds.

Normally, auditory input isn't my strong suit. In fact, if I had had to learn in school through totally auditory means, I'm sure I would have failed miserably. However, I am finding that the natural sounds of a prairie sooth me in a subconscious way that I hadn't known was possible. I find myself relaxing and smiling, stopping every once in a while simply to listen.

How sad that most people don't get to enjoy this natural outside musical accompaniment anymore. Even in my mother's neighborhood, which boasts large yards and big farm ponds billed as lakes, the frogs have been gone for years. (In that case, my bet is that lawn chemicals were the cause of their disappearance, but it's purely a guess.) I know that some folks buy CDs of natural sounds to imitate this phenomenon, but there is no way that those CDs can come close to hearing the actual sounds, with the sun beaming down on you and a breeze playing with your hair.

So, for those of you who can, I urge you to open up your windows and wallow in the richness of the springtime frog chorus. And for those of you who can't hear them singing near your home? I can't think of a better reason to switch to organic yard maintenance and gardening for wildlife. You'll be glad you did.

A Quiet House

The house seems very still and quiet today. I had to take Becker in for leg surgery this morning and it feels like there is a missing piece here at home.

About 2 months ago he developed a limp in his right hind leg. We took him to the vet. They x-rayed his hips and generally checked him out, said he'd strained something and to keep him quiet. (Yeah, right.) So we did our best and his limp disappeared.

Then about a month ago the limp reappeared. This time dosing him with Rimadyl didn't help. We took him back to the vet, who diagnosed a torn cruciate ligament - the canine equivalent of a torn ACL in a human. Surgery was recommended, so off we went to the only veterinary surgeon in Wichita for a consultation.

There were a couple options, but the surgeon recommended a TPLO - tibial plateau leveling off, or something similar. It involves cutting part of the tibial head off and realigning it to transfer the forces from a forward and angular motion to an almost vertical motion when he uses his leg. By changing the pattern of force motion, it reduces stress on the knee joint and allows the tendon to heal...I think. Without surgery, the vets all said he'd be lame for the rest of his life.

So he's in having surgery. We'll have to keep him quiet for at least 8 weeks. (Ouch.) He's not supposed to climb flights of stairs during that time, meaning that he won't be able to sleep by our bed...which he won't understand. (After all, that's where the pack sleeps!)

I miss him. I'm worried about him. I'm nervous about keeping him appropriately quiet during his recovery. This, too, shall pass...but, oh, I wish I didn't have to put him through it!

Bird Feeding This Winter - Part III - Suet Takes the Cake

Suet is generally considered the food of choice for woodpeckers and maybe some chickadees. It's been interesting for me to note who has actually been eating it this winter.

The flicker, of course, fits the woodpecker stereotype:

The mockingbird, though, is definitely not an advertised suet lover - however, I only see my resident mocker(s) at either the suet or the water, and it's usually at the suet:

Then there are the "if he likes it so much, maybe I should try it" casual feeders, like this immature white crowned sparrow:

I've noticed cardinals in that last category too.

Of course, I've seen downy woodpeckers and red bellied woodpeckers eating lustily at the suet, too, as well as those pesky starlings. Usually the chickadees seem to prefer the black oil sunflower seeds in the hanging feeders, but sometimes they seem to crave something a little "stronger." Among my favorites feeding at the suet are the Carolina wrens who generally dart in during the late afternoon hours for a quick snack.

Whether suet, sunflower seed, thistle, cracked corn or a mix, the bird feeders have attracted a lot of life and action to the yard this winter. They and their gluttonous following keep me endlessly entertained during the cold months...and I feel satisfied, too, thinking of all the fertilizer they are depositing on the ground and of all the overwintering bugs that they are searching out for their "in-between meal snacks".

I can't imagine my wintertime yard without them.

The Gift That's Kept on Giving

Our wonderful friends, Flip and Shelley, gave us a bird bath for our deck railing at Christmas this year. We put it up about a week into January and waited to see what would happen.

Our history with heated bird baths in this yard was short, but not especially sweet, so we had some misgivings. When we first moved in two years ago, I'd put a heated bird bath on the ground not too far from the feeders. Within a few days, starlings had discovered it. Every time I filled it, a huge flock of starlings would descend within 20 minutes and bathe in it. Ten minutes later they would leave, presumably fresh and clean, while the bird bath had been emptied of most of its water...and the little water remaining was absolutely filthy.

For several days I tried to keep up with rinsing it out and refilling it with fresh water after the starlings left, but they would come back almost immediately and foul it again.

Finally, I just decided to let the birds fend for themselves. We have the draw out back and it usually has some open water in it, so I wasn't too worried. I just wouldn't be able to watch the birds as they drank and bathed.

Shortly after we put up this new addition in January, though, it started attracting more desireable "customers". At one time or another, almost every bird species that uses our feeders has winged over to wash the seed or suet down with a fresh, slightly warm drink of water.

Here are a few of those customers that I've managed to capture on camera:

The male cardinal - so vivid that no one else wanted to share the spotlight with him!

The social club (white crowned sparrows and a pine siskin), telling an immature white crowned sparrow who's waiting in line that it's just not his turn yet!

A Harris sparrow and a female cardinal, sharing a suspicious moment together.

I don't like feeding seed on or near the deck because of the undesireables that it draws, but this bird bath seems to be a perfect solution for bringing the birds in close enough to get a reasonable look at them. The starlings have come in onesies and twosies to drink, too, but they evidently want stable ground beneath their water for bathing, as that hasn't been an issue.

Thanks again, Flip and Shelley, for a wonderful addition to our backyard!

Bird Feeding This Winter, Part II - Migratory Anomalies

Another interesting thing I noticed this winter was that I had several individuals who spent the winter here from species that I would have expected to winter further south. Global warming? Or just an anomaly? Or simply the fact that I'm a little further south here than I was in Mayetta?

Here, for example, is a female red winged blackbird that I saw, off and on, with a flock of males all winter long. This photo was taken on January 12th:

Then there were the cowbirds. I had several of those visiting fairly regularly all through the winter too. This photo, of a brown-headed cowbird male feeding with 2 red winged blackbirds, an immature white crowned sparrow and a female cardinal, was taken on January 13th.

I didn't get a photo of the last major migratory anomaly that I noted: a single common grackle that also flocked with the red winged blackbirds at my feeders for much of the winter.

About a week ago, the grackles started coming through in large numbers, still mixed in with flocks of red-winged blackbirds. I'm hearing killdeer call, so I know that their migration has started too. I'm going to have to research a little further and see what, if anything, my oddball winter residents can teach me.

Bird Feeding This Winter

I try to do the Cornell FeederWatch program each winter. Or I should say that I used to do the FeederWatch, many years ago, when we lived in Mayetta, Kansas. I didn't bother doing it in Mobile, because we had so few birds. Besides which, because of the set-up of the back deck there, my feeders had to be set up so far away from the house that it was inconvenient to watch the birds consistently.

The winter after we moved here, I re-enrolled in FeederWatch and started regularly counting the birds at my feeders again, but I did not get around to entering my data. This winter I managed to both enroll myself AND start entering the data. Because I'm doing it on-line, I can count for 2 days every week, so I've chosen Mondays and Tuesdays. They've turned out to be frustratingly busy days, requiring me to be away from home quite a bit, but I've done the best I can.

I've noticed a few interesting things:

The FeederWatch folks are suspicious of my numbers of white crowned sparrows. I don't know why I have so many, but I seem to have become the winter hangout for both matures and immatures, in about a 1:2 ratio. It's hard to photograph the big flocks, because they often appear in the late afternoon, when the sun is getting low directly behind them and their brown feathers blend in well with the brown grass. Here, though, is a photo of a couple adults taking some liquid refreshment (in the company of a female cardinal) at our newly installed, deck rail "water bar".

(I started the winter with less than 10 white crowneds, soon went up to +/- 25 at a time, and actually recorded a couple cold days in January where there were over 50 at a time.)

Speaking of cardinals, another cold winter day I had over a dozen cardinals firing up the trees:

Harris sparrows are even more common at my feeders than white crowned sparrows are. My high count for those was over 100 at one time. This poor photo is an enlargement of a small portion from a much larger image. Despite its poor resolution, it shows the plumage of Harris sparrows better than any other photo I currently have. (Guess who needs to photograph a few more Harris sparrows?)

Well, more observations in another post, as 3-4 photos at the resolution I like to keep them is all that Blogger will accept per post.

Spring?! Maybe Not So Much

Be careful what you wish for.

We had 85 degrees last Thursday, according to a post I wrote last Friday. Last night it got below 20 degrees. Today it managed to reach, grudgingly, 36. Tonight's supposed to be back down to 20 again. Then tomorrow we're slated for a high in the upper 30's again.

I had decided I was ready for spring, doggoneit!

We were supposed to get rain when all of this rolled through. That would have been a fair exchange, but we stayed bone dry on Saturday while the storms aimed about 15 miles north of us, then we received the huge total of 1/8" when they reappeared on Monday. Hardly enough to be worth the multiple tornado and severe thunderstorm warnings that we had to suffer through. (On the other hand, we didn't get any tornadoes, golf ball sized hail, or 100 mph winds either! I do appreciate the storms' forbearance in that regard.)

Looking on the positive side, little has leafed out or flowered out enough that I think these temperatures will be a major setback. The strawberry plants we bought Saturday are tucked into the garage, since we were in the process of hardening them off when the cold came back. The asparagus crowns I put in on Sunday should be safely below ground where these temperatures won't do much to them. And the "gamble garden" I put in on Saturday (peas, lettuce, spinach) may or may not come up...but it was a gamble garden, after all.

It's supposed to slowly warm up through the weekend, until we settle for a while in the 30's at night and in the 60's during the day. Those temperatures sound pretty spring-like to me. I'm definitely looking forward to their arrival.

Further Adventures of Electro-Cat

When last I was blogging regularly, we were having issues with our young black cat, Ranger, who seemed addicted to the buzz he got (literally and figuratively) from chewing through electrical cords.

We tried buying a plethora of new cat toys and giving them to him one at a time, replacing each "boring" one with a fresh new one. That worked for a couple days, but toys just couldn't compare with real "juice."

We were at last confronted with the ultimate decision: Ranger either had to go back to the shelter (where he would probably be unadoptable due to his rather bizarre habit) or we would have to start letting him outside. I didn't want an outdoor cat but, faced with the alternative, I decided it was the lesser of the two evils.

Ranger was petrified at first. I'd throw him outside when I caught him chewing on a cord and he'd cower under the potting bench on the breezeway until I opened the door again. Then he'd dart back in. After a few days, I saw him cautiously explore the yard a bit. By the time a week had gone by, though, our other cat, T.J., was green with jealousy and decided that he wanted to be an outdoor cat too. I tried to keep him in, but he got increasingly adept at sneaking out and I finally just gave up the battle. Once T.J. was outside, Ranger seemed to think that being outdoors was great fun.

Now they are both outside as much or more than they are inside. We try to keep them inside at night since we have cat-eating coyotes that roam the property, as evidenced by the claws I've found in their scat. So far, so good on that account. Ranger has become quite the ratter. I don't mind his thinning the cotton rat population, especially around the house and flower beds, but it is very hard to watch him playing with his prey for hours at a time before killing them. The ultimate cat toy, I'm afraid.

I've observed that most cats seem to become birders or mousers/ratters preferentially. Ranger has tried to go for birds, as the photo below evidences, but he's much more successful with the rats. That's probably best for almost everybody concerned...rats excluded.

Spring in Kansas

Wow. I knew it had been a while since I posted, but I had no idea it's been almost 2 months! No wonder blog entries are floating around my brain constantly these days: I haven't given myself a good chance to clear them out lately.

Be that as it may, I have to write and celebrate the beginning of spring.

Of course, I'm in Kansas, so the first rule of thumb is that spring in Kansas is capricious, to say the least. A week ago Wednesday it was 76 degrees F.; last Saturday we woke up to 12 degrees F.; yesterday it was 85 degrees F. I am SOOO glad for our heated and air conditioned house. Sometimes I think it's amazing that any plants or animals can survive this land of extremes.

Saturday was especially humorous, since I woke up to the return of deep cold outside, then shortly thereafter found the first tick of the year...unfortunately crawling on my head. Presumably I have one of the cats to thank for that gift.

Truthfully, I've been talking to the weather gods for the last several weeks, asking for colder temperatures for a while still. I really hate early springs, since they are so often accompanied by the heartbreak of a late, killing frost. The weather gods have not been listening to me however...except maybe for that brief sop to their conscience at the end of last week. I gave up begging yesterday. Something in the air got to me...and I've suddenly turned a psychological corner now, where my mind and body are screaming, "It's spring! Get outside and get busy! Grow, plants, grow!"

Of course, also typical of Kansas, after 2 years of major moisture (literally record-setting last year), the skies have turned off and we've had almost no moisture at all for the entire winter. Things aren't critical yet, but I'd sure be happy to see a few days of heavy drizzle. Given the lack of rain, my first tasks this spring have ended up revolving around watering, as deeply as I have the patience for.

That's not all bad, as it gives me a relaxing time to see what's coming up. Crocuses, both established and newly planted last fall, are in full bloom. Tulips and daffodils are in various stages of leaf emergence, while the grape hyacinths are just beginning to peek through. (The latter is surprising me, because I remembered grape hyacinths as being one of the earlier spring bulbs.) Summer phlox, some of the salvias, and the hairy phlox have all developed healthy new sprouts and it's time to cut back whatever remains of last year's foliage.

I'm really curious to see what has made it through the winter. I planted late last year, especially in the back courtyard, so I don't know how well established many of those plants were before winter's cold and dry hit. We've also had an overabundance of hispid cotton rats, thanks both to that record-setting moisture last year and to the fact that I'm leaving the tall grass tall. The cotton rats are not a problem as far as invading the house goes, but they sure do eat a lot of vegetative matter.

The lilac leaves are beginning to open, which seems terribly early to me, and the buds on the Callery pears are swollen, fuzzy and showing promise of white.

The final switch into spring fever came last night, though. We had the sliding door open in the kitchen, enjoying the warm evening air. Sitting at the table I first heard migrating songbirds overhead, then the first of the chorus frogs singing in the draw. Future freezes or not, spring is here for the year.