Just Looking

~ shoreacres ~ 27 Comments
Bumblebee  (Bombus sonorus) “just looking” into a crossvine flower (Bignonia capreolata)

Whenever our family gathered at my grandparents’ home, my father always made a beeline for Grandma’s pantry.  Roomy and spacious, it never lacked for good things, including homemade cookies. Occasionally, Grandma would ask, “What do you want?” “Nothing,” he’d say. “I’m just looking.”

“Busy as a bee” is a common metaphor, but sometimes “browsing like a bee” works, too. What my father would think of being compared to a bumblebee I’m not certain, but in this case, I suspect he’d recognize the behavior.

 

Comments always are welcome.

An Extraordinary Ordinary

~ shoreacres ~ 15 Comments
A narrowleaf plantain (Plantago lanceolata) run amok

For such an unpretentious plant, the narrowleaf plantain can be capable of unexpected exuberance.  Wandering through a field filled with plantain, I once found an attractive, sinuous stem. Here, anomalous growth has produced a sight that brings to mind the old saying about “three’s a crowd.”

Of course, this group of three flower heads doesn’t seem at all crowded. It’s simply another graceful example of nature doing what nature does so well: surprising and delighting with extraordinary versions of what we call ordinary plants.

Whatever the cause of the unusual growth — genetics, a virus, a response to injury — the result is memorable and the lesson clear. Even a so-called vacant neighborhood lot may hold unexpected treasure.

 

Comments always are welcome.

The Pleasure of Unexpected Treasure

~ shoreacres ~ 44 Comments
Yellow rain lily (Zephyranthes pulchella)

After a friend and I discovered great swaths of bluebells and eryngo at the Brazoria Wildlife Refuge, I decided to return for a day of solo exploration, and July 4 was my opportunity. 

Stopping for a quick survey of the planted gardens, I noticed what I assumed to be a late Texas dandelion blooming in the mowed grass edging the parking lot. A second look revealed something entirely different. A yellow rain lily was glowing in the sunlight, and at the very moment I recognized it, my day was complete.

I first encountered one of these lilies at a local nature center, and spent a good bit of time trying to identify it. Later, I found patches of them at Armand Bayou, and in the process of writing about them, satisfied myself that I’d found Zephyranthes smallii.

Still, my original identification had been provisional, so I emailed a pair of photos to Thomas Adams, botanist at the Mid-Coast National Wildlife Complex, which includes the Brazoria refuge. After noting that it’s sometimes difficult to distinguish between Zephyranthes citrina and Zephyranthes pulchella, he added that, given the equal size of the stamens and the short perianth tube, it seemed likely that I had stumbled across Zephyranthes pulchella: a Texas native that historically has been found close to Brazoria County.

Other surprises would come that day, but nothing could equal this bit of explosive color — an example of floral fireworks that seemed made for a day of celebration.

 

Comments always are welcome.