During the summer I give supplemental water to my back grass where my kids and dogs play. Mainly because I’ve learned to not do so invites a mud pit in November.
I hand water whatever I’ve planted recently, but everything else is on its own. I feel like this picture is such an illustration of Native vs. Non-Native. Neither the “grass” in front of it nor Lindheimer’s Senna has gotten any extra water, but one is thriving and blooming!
How has it been so long since I did a wide-angle view of the front yard? I cleaned up the front path this morning and decided now was the time. I haven’t done any supplemental watering this year, and things are a little crispy but it’s starting to be an ecosystem all its own.
Have I taken pictures with the white roof yet? That’s a dramatic change. New paint coming this fall.The trees have been growing nicely. Only a few more years and they’ll providing afternoon shade for the backyard.
I first fell in love with Apache Plume when I was asked to MC the opening of the Luci and Ian Family Garden at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center.
As part of the event I got to speak to the garden designers and implementers and they were in love with this plant. Their enthusiasm was infections. I spotted it again under some ancient Live Oak Trees in Jester King’s beer garden.
Which is how I decided to pick one up at a plant sale and plant it in the shade of a tree. I’ve been slowly killing it ever since.
But it was with joy that on my evening walk on the Country Club Creek Trail behind our house that I came upon some Apache Plume, seedheads dancing in the wind.
If you’ve visited my house one of the first things that greeted you was a giant prickly pear. When we sold our old house in 2007 I took two paddles and put them in a pot with some dirt. They sat on my Mom and Dad’s back porch for 4 months, then spent an entire winter shoved into the back of our new shed. I planted it sometime that summer.
To say it thrived was an understatement. It grew into a lovely specimen.
2011 xeriscaping
But then it kept growing. It started making it difficult to get into the house and needed constant pruning. It was like a friend who was clingy, always wanting to play with your hair.
2014 yard remodel
It was impressive in a “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a prickly pear that tall before” way. But not in a “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a prickly pear that beautiful before”. So Julie and I decided today that the time had come. As part of our spring cleaning we took it out.
It has provided some lovely landscaping beams, however.
So what next? We don’t know. I’d love to hear any and all ideas.
I try to keep my ranting in other blogs. But every piece of gardening feels like such a political activity that I don’t really know why I try. Here’s a great thread from Austin City Council Member Gregorio Casar on the intersection of immigration and Monarch butterflies.
Immigrant rights activists adopted the butterfly as a symbol of the natural and normal process of migration. The fact that a racist border wall would rip through and destroy a butterfly refuge is a bitter allegory that cannot be lost on us. https://t.co/5OMyLyAidn
The Monarch migrates annually from as far as Canada to Mexico, and back again. It can take several generations for these butterflies to migrate that distance. It’s use by activists forces all of us to consider the question “What is a border to a butterfly?”
As Trump continues to lash out at a manufactured enemy, we cannot forget the very real impact its construction will have on people and on creation more broadly. Many thanks to @TexasObserver and @bova_gus for continuing to shine light on these impacts.
I had a wonderful time at a solstice party last night, and what better way to celebrate the return of longer days than to spend several hours out wedding with the dogs. The weather was lovely. The weeds were bountiful, and I got many kisses from the dogs.