Signs of Spring

Just a few days ago I heard the familiar lament, "I like Florida, but I really miss the change of seasons." We don't have jonquils and crocus, but  there are plenty of signs heralding the advent of spring in SW Florida. As for color signals, what more do you need than the show put on by flowering trees - deep yellow Tabebuia,cooling lavender Jacaranda, delicate pink masses of flowering almond - just to name a few.  

The trees named above aren't native to Florida, but so much goes on in March in the natural world that I labeled 2 posts "March Madness" in 2017. This year has been a little crazy apart from the garden, and  I have made many more scribbled notes than sketches. I hope to catch up on some of the later spring manifestations.

The return of the swallow-tailed kites is a sure sign that the winter has turned. I spotted my first one of this year in the second week of March. These striking white-and- black-marked raptors demonstrate how little color has to do with real beauty. No matter how many I've seen, a soaring swallow-tailed kite still takes my breath away. Author and artist David Allen Sibley talks of their,"unmistakeable; incredibly graceful, flowing flight."(The Sibley Guide to Birds, p. 111). The birds don't use just their tail feathers for maneuvering, but also can twist their entire lower body to execute their aerial acrobatics.

Swallow-tailed kites nest in tall trees in hardwood forests, and due to development, especially intense timbering and replacement of mixed forests with pine plantations, their range in the U.S. has shrunk drastically. They used to nest as far north as Minnesota. Now they are limited to peninsular Florida, and the coasts of Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, and eastern Louisiana. They return to South America in the fall. 

They pluck their prey - reptiles, amphibians, insects and small birds from the treetops or catch and eat them in flight. I haven't read that they do so, but I wouldn't be surprised to find that they also rob nests of other species. Perhaps that is calumny, but "Mother Nature" isn't kind, and she doesn't always go by the rules.

Frangipani, Plumeria sp., isn't native to Florida, but it consumes few, if any, resources, and isn't invasive. It is a quintessential "pass-along" plant. I got mine from a sister, who got hers from a friend. All you have to do to grow it is stick a branch into the dirt, water a little, and watch it grow. Once it is established it needs no irrigation or fertilizer. (At least the one in our yard behaves that way). There are many species and varieties, but the only two I see around the neighborhood are a  pink-flowered and a yellow-flowered one. Ours is  yellow-flowered, and fragrant. Frangipani is one of the flowers traditionally used in Hawaiin leis.

Frangipani Flower Cluster

Once the weather is good and dry, frangipanis lose all their leaves, and look completely dead and more than slightly creepy - like some sort of alien life form, which is just waiting to emerge and wreak havoc. 

Dormant Frangipani Branch

I used a variety of colored pencils to capture the gray-green, turgid look of these branchlets, which really do resemble dead fingers. The true color is something in between all my attempts. The large dry markings are leaf scars from previous seasons, and the squiggly maroonish things at the very tip are nascent leaves. New growth literally bursts through the skin. Buds and stems don't magically appear on the branches, but rupture the skin, leaving oozing wounds. 

Last month, bloom stalks capped with numerous flower buds started rising from the branch tips, and now the first flowers have opened. The plant is a member of the Dogbane Family, and all parts, including the white sap, are somewhat poisonous. I haven't found the sap irritating, but I haven't gotten much on my skin, and other people might have a reaction to it.

Emerging Flower Stalk
Maroon Structures are Young Leaves

The Great Southern White and Florida White butterflies reappear in mid-to-late March. Both occur here about the same time, and I'm not quick enough to id them on the fly. When we first moved here in 1994, we would see great swarms of white butterflies, but now we see them singly or maybe in pairs. If you can get close enough to see them, the bright turquoise tips on the antennae are a dead giveaway for the Great Southern White.

White Butterflies:
Great Southern White, Left, and Florida White, Right

The emergence of lubber grasshopper nymphs is also a marker for spring. The nymphs start emerging in great numbers in February. So far they have defoliated one bougainvillea, and demolished the Crinums and Tradescantias. They'll all recover, with the possible exception of the Tradescantia. which really are happier in more northern sections of Florida. There must be many microorganisms that afflict the nymphs, because the number of adults I see later on is a fraction of the immature population. Both nymphs and adults allegedly are toxic to most predators. 

Newly-Emerged Lubber Nymphs

Just like "up north," perennials are forming new basal rosettes and resuming growth. Elephant's foot and rosinweed have made a fine beginning, while blackroot and Pluchea have resprouted directly.  Native grasses like Elliott's Love Grass and Pink Muhley are sending out fresh, colored blades from what clumps of dried foliage from last year. Gaillardias sown by last year's plants are germinating here and there in the yard. I leave them where they don't block a path, and try to transplant others, even though it sets them back. 

March brings persistent drying winds. Our last rain was the second week in February, and given the wind and increasing sunshine I have to water at least twice a week now, whereas during winter even the potted plants don't require a lot of attention. 

Blue-Eyed Grass

Blue-eyed grass made a magnificent display throughout late winter and early spring, but is going to seed now. The tickseed is also beginning to appear somewhat the worse for wear.

It's March Madness in the garden all over again. There is plenty more going on, but I have to stop for now.

Summertime Blues I

Blues and purples have a calming effect in the garden, maybe because they suggest shadows and cool water. I have begun consolidating the blues scattered through our yard to maximize their impact - to create mini-oases amidst the reds, yellows, oranges and hot pinks that abound.

Waterlily "Tina"

The tropical waterlily Tina has been blooming like mad, in spite of the fact that I haven't fertilized it in over a year. "Her" pot is in a half-barrel nestled in the dappled shade of a Fiddlewood, one of the most valuable plants in the yard  because of the partial shade it affords.

A clump of chalky-blue Elliott's lovegrass has sprung up beside the waterlily pot, thriving from overspill. Grackles swoop down from the fiddlewood to bathe here because they can perch on the rim of of the pot within a pot, throwing out arcs of water with every wingflap. The grass loves it. I have the frame for an old hanging basket over the waterlily crown to keep them from destroying the plant, but when the grackles are active, I need to add water to the pot every day, and the grass gets a little drink in the process.

Elliott's Lovegrass in Bloom

Dwarf golden dewdrop, Duranta repens, is also good for cooling things down. Lucious racemes of white-edged, deep purple flowers droop from arching stems. I have to keep it in a pot to protect it from root knot nematodes, the bane of southern gardeners, and an especially bothersome pest in South Florida. If it is in full sun, the leaves get too yellow, so it needs some dappled shade to let the flowers and foliage thrive.

Golden Dewdrop

 Duranta used to be considered a Florida native, but isn't classified as such now. At any rate, it is certainly "Florida friendly" in terms of water and fertilizer usage. There is a non-dwarf form, but given the small size of the yard, I need to look for small varieties. The plant's name comes from the golden seeds (poisonous)  that follow the flowers. A member of the Verbena family, it is highly attractive to many butterflies. It blooms periodically throughout the year. I have moved its pot beside and a little in front of another Tina waterlily in the front yard. I like the effect of the branches drooping over the water, and I hope the purples will "talk" to each other.

Blue porterweed (Stachytarpheta jamaicensis), another member of Verbenaceae, would be my choice if I could have only one nectar plant. It attracts not only many butterflies and other insect species, but also hummingbirds. We see very few hummers, only during their spring and fall migrations, but they love the blue porterweed almost as much as the traditional red flowers like fire bush coral honeysuckle, and red geiger. (I remember hummingbirds nectaring at the blue balloon-flowers (Platycodon sp) I had in a rock garden in Georgia).

Native Blue Porterweed

It is hard to convey the beauty of blue porterweed in a photo or small drawing, since each flower spike has only 3-6 pale blue flowers open at a time. Each plant produces multiple spikes, though, so a mature plant, or even better, a clump of porterweeds, will have an abundance of blues dancing above the foliage.

There is a great deal of confusion in the trade over blue porterweed, and many nurseries unwittingly purvey a non-native form, Stachytarpheta urticifolia. This plant does attract butterflies, but also gets woody and scraggly with time. It has a minutely quilted leaf surface, and its flowers tend toward purple. The native porterweed has much smoother leaves, blue flowers, more compact habit, and smaller stature. Naturalist Roger Hammer has been instrumental in clearing up the confusion, at least within native plant circles.

I treat it as something like a long-lived annual or short-lived perennial. I cut it back when it starts to decline, but eventually it is easier for me to pull out the decadent individuals and foster the new ones that have sprung up in the yard. Without grass competition it self-sows actively, but not so much that it becomes a nuisance.

Carpenter Bee(?) on Native Blue Porterweed

Under very wet conditions the leaves may be attacked by a fungus. I have been able to keep this under control by pruning or removing diseased plants.  The porterweeds at a nearby nature center where I volunteered years ago were sometimes attacked by a stem-boring insect, but so far the ones in our yard have been free from this. They do get mealy bugs and spittle bugs, especially the older plants, but essentially are trouble free. They are growing scattered throughout the yard, and also in large pots.

Since we still have had no rain for over a week, fungus is the least of my worries. It rains all around us, and most days the skies get gray and even livid purple, with thunder and some lightning, but it passes us by with nary a sprinkle.