Some moms receive roses for Mother’s Day. Others are given chocolates, dinners out, or photos of their adoring children. While I did enjoy dinner in a restaurant on Mother’s Day, I wasn’t dining with my family. Rather, I spent the day—actually five days over a long weekend—attending the annual Colorado Field Ornithologists (CFO) convention, held this year in Lamar (almost to Kansas and Oklahoma), Colorado.
My family knows what makes me smile.
From a distance, a blooming fernbush (Chamaebatiaria millefolium) resembles a lovely white lilac bush, but no lilac would be in bloom at this time of year. Growing to seven feet high and wide, these shapely shrubs are covered in upright sprays of showy white flowers from June through August. Individual blossoms are reminiscent of single roses, and attract bees and butterflies. Come autumn, the flowers are replaced by russet seed heads.
A closer inspection reveals reddish peeling bark and the aromatic, finely dissected leaves that give Fernbush its common name. Even in our cold climate, these leaves stay on the bush for most of the year; branches are bare for a mere three to four months each winter. Fall foliage is an attractive copper color.
We’re familiar with these facts:
Brown Pelicans are saltwater birds, sticking to the coasts.We think we know. We think we understand. We’ve observed, conducted studies, collected facts. We think we have it right. And then Mother Nature confounds us.
Most landscapes look terrific in May and June. The leaves are fresh and new. From pink crabapples to purple lilacs, it seems as if everything is in bloom. The contrast with the lifeless browns and grays of winter is enough to send you cavorting across the glowing, emerald green lawn.
It’s tempting—irresistible, really—to rush to the local garden center and buy everything with flowers on it. I’ve been subjected to Facebook photos of flowers since March (I have a lot of friends in California), and finally it’s our turn!
To refresh your memory, here is the photo from May’s Bird Quiz. The bird was seen in California during the month of April. Don’t read any further if you want one last chance to identify this bird.
Do carrots really love tomatoes? Do beans and onions hate one another? The internet (and my bookshelf) is full of anecdotal advice about which crops we should plant together, and which ones we should not.
There’s a well-known book that’s been around for ages called Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening, by Louise Riotte. It offers page after page of “facts” about companion planting. That sounds really helpful, and I was ready to try it all, but unfortunately, when I dug in online, I discovered that there is very little science behind the advice.
Can you identify this bird? The photo was taken in California during the month of April. The answer will appear next week.
How do you plant a new tree? Most people know to dig a hole “twice as wide and deep as the root ball” (according to the label I found hanging from the branches), then stick in the tree, making sure the roots are well buried. Amend the backfill with plenty of compost, pile it over the roots and tamp it down firmly. Finally, securely stake the thin trunk so it won’t wiggle in the wind. Right?
Wrong!
This advice was being questioned as far back as 1980, but it is still widely practiced, much to the detriment of the poor plants.
A shallow, warm sea reflects sunlight in the distance. Here on the shore, a flat beach is backed by low hills. The hillsides are home to dozens of large, circular depressions approximately six feet across. These are nests, and the assemblage is a rookery.
Some nests still contain eggs, others have young in residence. The nestlings have been here a while, hanging out with the their parents, who in turn provide both food and protection. (more…)
I sometimes wonder why God made mosquitoes. They’re so… annoying! No one enjoys getting bitten. It’s more than just the never-ending itch—they carry some very nasty diseases such as malaria, yellow fever, and chikungunya. Even here in the U.S. we’re at risk of West Nile, dengue, viral encephalitis, and now zika.
My Facebook feed is suddenly overflowing with lists of plants that supposedly repel mosquitoes. Just plant these flowers and herbs and your yard will be pest-free! Or, as one post on Pintrest claimed, “Plant a Mosquito Control container so you can sit and unwind in the evenings.” Unfortunately, anything that simple raises a red flag for me. Can controlling mosquitoes really be as easy as planting marigolds and lavender? It took some research to get past the hype, but I eventually found some scientific studies that look at this question.
Mountain Plover 