Monarch butterflies have been visiting the garden and finding the 'butterfly bush' to be an irresistible treat

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*GARDENING DISCLAIMER: Although I do not condone cultivating invasive plants, bushes and shrubs, buddleia (aka 'butterfly bush') is not considered an invasive pest in our area of the world (San Francisco Bay Area of California, USA) where summers are rainless. It does not propagate here. That's the only reason I have one.

Spotted a Gulf Fritillary butterfly in my garden for the first time... completely by accident

I saw a couple of monarch butterflies fluttering around the buddleia (aka 'Butterfly Bush')* that's in full bloom in the garden, so I took my camera out to try and catch some shots. Imagine my surprise when I saw another butterfly I didn't recognize, got some shots of it sipping nectar and came inside to find it is a variety I've never seen before (let alone photographed). I'm pretty stoked!

*GARDENING DISCLAIMER: Although I do not condone cultivating invasive plants, bushes and shrubs, buddleia is not considered an invasive pest in our area of the world (San Francisco Bay Area of California) where summer's are rainless. It does not propagate here. That's the only reason I have one.

The best aphid protection my roses have ever had

Mr. Hooded Oriole (above) and his wife keep my roses aphid-free along with help from some other birds. I simply provided all the birds with a burbling water fountain set in the middle of the rose garden, and the birds reward me by gleaning all the bugs off by rosebushes.

It's perfect weather for garden installation around here

I think normally when someone says, "Yeah, I'm taking the whole week of Thanksgiving off because we have plans" it means that the person is traveling to spend the holiday with relatives or go on a vacation of some sort to celebrate the holiday.

Not so around here.

When Hubby said he'd be taking the whole week of Thanksgiving off because we have plans, it's because:

1. a portable storage container is being delivered to our driveway
2. the last of 1500 pounds of boulders needs to be moved out of the back of our low-riding pickup truck
3. the invasive ivy and vinca major that's grown through the fence from the neighbor's yard over the past few years needs to be hacked away
4. the boulders that were in the pickup need to be arranged to line the path down the south sideyard in preparation to install a pea gravel and flagstone path (which we'll probably tackle during his time off around Christmas)

Oh... and Hubby is also doing the pre-holiday food shopping that needs to be done while I'm sitting here typing this blog post. Yeah, I married a saint of a man.

The garage has, up to now, been our storage area for my floral design supplies (including some massive coolers too big to put anywhere else and big boxes of blocks of floral foam), home construction materials, and food storage in pantry units down one wall. Over the past few weeks, we've relocated the pantry units to available temporary space in the house, but there isn't room anywhere for everything else in the garage that needs to be cleared out in order to begin the work of transforming the space into my new studio.

So last week, we made the decision that we'd just have to bite the bullet and include the cost of a portable storage unit in our construction budget.

The portable storage unit was delivered on-schedule mid-day on Monday. It's called CoolBox because (unlike other portable store pods) this one is completely insulated so the interior stays more temperate. The 16 foot x 8 foot unit is now sitting in our driveway taking up one parking space with its door facing our garage door. Today, Hubby started the transfer of stuff from the garage to the unit while I worked on setting rocks.

Hubby had done the monumental task of cutting back ivy the past couple of Saturdays (despite being plagued with an allergic reaction to all the stuff he was kicking up in the process). Once he had cleared the ivy away to reveal bare ground, he started moving rocks from the back of the pickup and pre-placing them in a line.

Then it was my job to come along and apply my vision to the placement of the rocks. I had to dig, scoot, and rearrange to get each one looking just right. The long course of rocks now forms a raised bed for the warm climate lilacs, loquat trees and Cecile Brunner rosebush that form the dense arch of foliage leading down the sideyard to our "secret garden" in back.

Hubby smartly discovered one rock with a little "mouse hole" on the bottom and placed it perfectly over the irrigation line that runs to the raised bed (you can see it in the photo above). (I'm telling you, he's awesome!)

With the November air cool and crisp, it was the perfect time to be doing this hard labor.

This time of year is always interesting in the garden. There are some trees and bushes (the liquid amber, plum, pomegranate and cherry) that are turning beautiful shades of yellow gold or russet red. At the same time, the leaves of the non-deciduous trees and bushes, like the thick glossy loquat leaves, remain a lush green. The hummingbirds and bees still have plenty to snack on since the lavender, loquat and navel orange are in bloom. At the same time, their deciduous neighbors have bare branches ready for winter.

It's such a wonderful time to be out in the garden, I may have a hard time breaking away for the Thanksgiving festivities. Then again I'm "a bona fide turkaconis freak" of major proportions so it probably won't be that hard to lure me away.

We are not being compensated in any way by CoolBox Portable Storage or getacoolbox.com for the photo of their storage container or mention of their company's services in this blog post.

I love Autumn... but I'm not a big fan of the fall

I love Autumn... but I'm not a big fan of "the fall"... "the fall" of the leaves, that is.

The leaves look so beautiful as they change colors while on the tree--nature dressed in the same colors I love to wear myself.

As brilliant as the inside of a tropical fruit, the orange-yellow leaves of the pomegranate is a delight to behold... until those leaves start loosening their grip and descending to the ground and pond below.

Every day or so I sit on my "tranquility bench" with pool net in hand sweeping leaves off in gentle strokes being careful not to scoop up little mosquito fish in the process. It's slow, methodical and eventually very rhythmic.

As I sit on the bench, I look above me at all the leaves still hanging on.

I know I will be scooping those out in the days to come.

There's no easier way to do this delicate work.

I am the steward of a backyard wildlife habitat, and I must be gentle in my stewardship opting for slow and methodical sweeps of the net over get-it-done-quickly techniques that would most likely involve noisy leaf blowers or nets over the pond that would prevent animals from getting the water they need while our region still waits for the replenishing autumn and winter rains to fill up seasonal ponds again.

The "tranquility bench" takes on a slightly different purpose this time of year, yet I still find tranquility there.

Abalone shells and lavender blooms--two small things making a big impact in my garden

The makings of a backyard wildlife habitat are often unexpected, small and don't seem like they would be significant at first glance. The same is true for all the wildlife that benefits from the small additions. Most wildlife that will benefit from a backyard wildlife habitat is small and diminutive like birds and beneficial bugs. But these small creatures can provide very large benefits to your outdoor space.

Saving money and time
By working as a partner with these little guys I've stopped having to spend money on bug sprays and killers, I spend less money conditioning the soil to get things to grow well, and my garden maintenance chores have slowly decreased because nature does a lot of the work for me.

Abalone shells as "water features"
Decades-old abalone and clam shells left from a fishing trip on the Bay that happened long before we came here, now grace the raised garden beds I made from chunks of repurposed concrete. The shells catch water from rainclouds or the garden hose so lizards, bees and butterflies can get a sip of water when they need it.

Just about everyone loves seeing butterflies in the garden, but why do I want lizards and bees to have a place to drink?

Why I want lizards in my garden
Lizards are a key component of my garden because they eat a lot of bugs (A LOT). They eat all the bugs I don't want including big nasty flies, young cockroaches and other creepy crawly nasties. And that's not all when it comes to the most prevalent lizard in my garden, the Western Fence Lizard. According to the California Academy of Sciences, the Western Fence Lizard's blood contains a protein that kills the Lyme disease-causing bacterium (Borrelia) that is carried in the guts of ticks. But if an infected tick bites a Western Fence Lizard, the Borrelia is killed off completely, leaving the tick's future bites harmless to other creatures. So the occurrence of Lyme disease is lower in areas where these wonderful little lizards live and thrive. Of course I want them as permanent residents!

Why I want bees and paper wasps in my garden
Bees (honeybees, carpenter bees, paper wasps and others) are also a key component of my garden. They pollinate all the fruits and vegetables to make a good harvest possible. They are all extremely docile while on the hunt for nectar and water. I never worry about being stung. I provide them with year-round nectar with hardy bloomers like the lavender. Even though it's November right now, the lavender is in full bloom again, and the pollinators are happy. The lavender will continue to be a nectar source throughout the bloom-deficient winter months when bees in our climate still forage because daytime temperatures are often mild and above 40F/5C on the coldest days.

Benefits of potted lavender
Again, the lavender is growing in simple terra cotta pots set directly on the ground. They take up little space and are drought tolerant.  The large pots also provide habitat for the lizards to hunt in and around. I often find them sunning themselves by one of the lavender pots waiting for a flying insect to come into range so they can pounce on it. Over time, each potted lavender has turned into a mini-hub-habitat. Strategically placed throughout the garden along paths, these pots help to balance each area by drawing the attention of beneficial bugs and critters to every place I need them. The added bonus of the simple system of potted lavender is that the scent of the lavender repels bugs I don't like (e.g., mosquitoes) away from places I like to sit. Another added bonus is I can go out and harvest lavender anytime I want to bring sprigs inside to repel unwanted bugs in the closets or pantry.

Back to the benefits of the simple abalone shells strewn about the garden beds...
If I lift one of the shells, I often find other insects have made a home underneath in the cool damp space out of the sunlight. Skunks and opossums rearrange the shells periodically to get to the grubs living under there. I patiently right the shells that get turned over so they can hold water again and brighten the garden with their pearly interiors.

Why I want skunks and opossums in my garden
Skunks (despite their smelly reputation) are great omnivores that eat insects, small rodents, lizards, and frogs as well as roots, berries, leaves, grasses, fungi (like mushrooms) and nuts. Opossums eat insects too--beetles, cockroaches, snails and slugs. Both skunks and opossums eat fruit that's fallen from fruit trees that would otherwise lay around and stink up the garden as it rots. Thanks to these two great critter species, I no longer have a problem with snails and slugs eating my beloved garden plants. And I don't have to spend money on pricey snail and slug bait to get rid of them either. These two species also keep my home and garden free of small rodents, as well as successfully preventing my garden from being taken over by the non-native bullfrog that can be a nuisance resident.

Little things mean a lot to Mother Nature
Over and over since I embarked on this journey of being a steward over a backyard wildlife habitat, I have had one simple truth reaffirmed... little things mean a lot. This is especially true when it comes to the beautiful balance nature can provide if given the opportunity.

Whether you have a windowbox, a balcony, a postage stamp yard or an acre

you can have a backyard wildlife habitat

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Even hummingbirds get itchy sometimes

photograph taken in the Rosehaven Cottage gardens 
28 October 2013

My mind is focused on hue, saturation, restoration and recovery.

One photo at a time gets preserved from the family albums.

I rest my eyes and back while wandering the garden paths.

I check the water level in the pond.

It's low.

I turn on the tap to replenish it for all the critters that drink from it.

Meandering out to the front garden, a tuxedo kitty greets me with raspy meows.

I sit on the porch to pet her.

Together we wait.

For what, we don't know...

Any movement that catches our eyes.

The tiniest chirps approach from the distance.

I see her sip sweet snacks from the red Japanese honeysuckle.

Then she lights on a leafless buddleia branch

And scratches an itch.

"Sweet 100's" courtesy of Nature herself

The light from the window hits the skins of the tomatoes...
light just right to bring out their ripe vibrant red.

Just outside that same window is where they grew.

Little red miracles
planted by nature herself...
over ripe fruit dropped last fall
onto the waiting brown earth.
Winter and spring rain watered the forgotten seeds.
Morning sun coaxed the seedlings into being.

The first midsummer harvest yields much...
four whole cups.
Still more are left on the vine
to ripen a teensy bit
and ensure their juicy perfection.

The harvester is giddy.
He loves tomatoes more than candy.
To know how they came to be,
makes him all the more giddy.

As full of wonder and delight
as a six year old walking
the rows of a vegetable garden
for the first time.

♪♫ ... and a chicken in a peach tree ♪♫

Isn't that how the song goes? No? Well, it would if it was a summer song instead of a Christmas song.

Today marks one week since the mysterious feral chicken fell out of the blue into our front garden... quite literally. [Click here if you want to read about it]

I still don't know where she came from. But apparently, despite her disdain for humans and cats, she has decided to hang around. I think the neighbor's cat has finally given up trying to "get the chicken". And the once-feral garden kitty that lives in our garden is smaller than the chicken and avoids her at every opportunity. In fact, the chicken will run from me but not the cat. Go figure.

We've dubbed the chicken "Ginger" or "The Big Ging" (Doctor Who fans should know the reference). She's been cleaning up on bugs, seeds, grass, strawberry leaves, leftover watermelon and chicken scratch (a mix of corn, wheat, millet and oats) so her feathers are in much better condition than only a week ago. She appears to have put on some weight too--which is good because she was so scrawny. So the "Big Ging" is getting bigger, thank goodness. I've also caught peeks of her when she doesn't know I'm looking and seen fluffy down in large tufts coming in around her legs. I think this is a good sign.

Speaking of catching peeks... can you see her peering at me with one eye from behind the peach tree leaves in the photo below?

I was wondering where she was spending her nights until yesterday when I stayed out in my chaise lounge until dusk. She meandered around pecking at things on the flagstones under the plum tree until she decided it was time to go to bed. She looked both ways a few times as if to see if anyone was looking, then crouched down low and sprang up in the most graceful chicken move I've ever seen. Flying up to the top of the wooden fence that divides our property from our neighbors' yard, she landed on the dog-ear-cut edge of the fence boards in a clearing between a rosebush and a liquid amber tree. She looked around a few more times, then carefully walked along the ridge of the boards and stealthily ducked under the branches of the liquid amber. I saw some rustling as she made her way through the branches and hopped up into the branches of the neighbor's peach tree that is right up against the fence with its boughs hanging over into our garden. When the rustling finally settled, I ventured around for a better vantage point without startling her and found she had roosted in a crook left in the branches from the neighbor's latest pruning.

This evening, I was again sitting outside at dusk (one of my favorite pastimes) when she fluttered up to the fence again to go to bed. Hubby joined midway through and got to watch the last half of her roosting ritual.

After she appeared to be settled, I ducked inside to get my camera and telephoto lens. I captured a few shots of her from the other side of the pond. When I came inside, I discovered the above photo with her little eye peering at me from between the peach tree leaves.

She's very suspicious of everything--particularly me and my camera.

Vignettes from an afternoon at the bird fountain

If I sit quietly in my chaise under the shade of the oleander with my camera and telephoto lens at the ready, I sometimes get the choice privilege of witnessing the dance around the bird fountain. The finches are visitors at this time of year. And one particular finch family is frequenting the fountain today.

First, Papa Finch comes down to get a drink and also to check out the current safety of the fountain to see if it's okay for the rest of the family to come down too.

Then Mama Finch swoops in gracefully, looking much like a ski jumper in flight.

Mama Finch is then joined by the young fledgling. Mama is teaching her juvenile how to drink but still has to help out sometimes by giving the fledging water directly. It will learn to do this on its own with Mama and Papa's great coaching.

The fledgling looks puzzled when Mama or Papa flies away. It is a tactic to try to get the young one to discover drinking directly from the fountain on its own.

The finches don't own exclusive rights to the water fountain, so they have to know when to share. When a female Anna's hummingbird approaches, the finch gets one last drink and then acquiesces to let the hummingbird take a turn.

This female Anna's is a little more cautious in approaching the fountain than other hummingbirds. She may be young or she may simply be out of her territory (hummingbirds are highly territorial and will chase off interlopers as soon as they are discovered).

She flits and darts as if she's trying to view the gurgling water from every possible angle before imbibing. She is probably feeling little droplets of water as they splash off the fountain. You can see some in the photo below.

The hummingbird is sure she wants to get a drink now and sticks out her long little tongue in anticipation of sipping from the burbling water.

She darts in and back out over and over with her tongue out catching little sips every time she goes close to the water.

After a few drinks, the hummingbird decides she has time to take a bath too.

She sits her tiny little body right in the middle of the action and drenches herself. Over the next minute or more, she is often completely enveloped in the water. Clearly, she loves baths. She's happy, content, and, eventually, very clean.

Now...

Not too far away from the bird fountain amidst the tall-ish grasses growing at the edges of the flagstone and gravels paths that meander through the garden, the visiting feral chicken (who showed up last week) is playing "jungle fowl" and hiding from me as she usually does. But my telephoto lens catches a glimpse of her anyway from across the pond that stands between the two of us. She's not a fan of humans or cameras. So I feel extremely lucky to have gotten another shot of her.

Is someone missing their contraband chicken?

I was sitting in the living room late yesterday afternoon talking to my sister-in-law on the phone, when I saw a large dark object fly past the front window in a cackling blur. At first, I thought another wild turkey had shown up and had crash landed in the front garden.

With phone in hand, I went outside to investigate. I heard clucking from under the rosemary hedge where it is too small to fit a turkey. Then it dawned on me that the clucking was not a turkey... it was a chicken!

That was a surprise! It is against county zoning ordinance laws to keep chickens where we live (we've talked directly with the county about it hoping we could have our own backyard chicken. No dice.). So we've never seen a stray chicken wandering around before.

The chicken hung around until dusk--wandering between the back and front gardens clucking along the side yard that connects both. The living room windows that overlook the side yard were open so we could enjoy the cool May night air. We could hear her clucking as she repeatedly passed underneath. The cats were quite entertained. The clucking finally stopped right before sundown, so I figured she had wandered home to wherever she came from to roost.

I was wrong...

Today, I came downstairs to hear more clucking and ba-gawking out in the back garden. I didn't get a chance to get a photo of her yesterday, so I went and got my camera and headed out the back door to see if I could get a shot or two of her.

Well, just as I stepped out onto the deck and started to round the corner of the house, I witnessed one of the neighborhood cats lunging at the chicken at the base of the deck stairs. Said chicken promptly took flight and headed straight for my head! Luckily, she veered at the last minute and landed a few feet in front of me on the deck railing next to the hot tub.

Always striving to be the consummate photographer, I remained unruffled and started squeezing off shots of the chicken while I had the chance. She was in perfect view with great light. How could I not?

She continued to cluck and ba-gawk at me. It wasn't happy ba-gawking either. She was royally ticked off at the audacity of that cat (who is barely bigger than the chicken) and the nerve of this woman to take pictures of her with her feathers ruffled.

You know the old adage, "Madder than a wet hen"? Well, I think I caught the look that goes along with that saying...

Talk about giving someone the "skunk eye". Boy, if looks could kill!

Fortunately, our garden is a backyard wildlife habitat full of plenty of water and bugs for her to eat while she hangs around. Now if she could only poop in the dirt and fertilize it instead of pooping on the flagstones that don't need fertilizer. Beggars can't be choosers I suppose.

Because of the county ordinances prohibiting the keeping of chickens, I can't really go up and down the the street with leaflets saying "FOUND: One lost chicken who's extremely ticked off right now"-- although I'm really tempted. Oh, you have no idea how tempted I am.

CHICKEN UPDATE (May 25th)
The chicken is still here. It wandered down the street for a while yesterday, but it came back again *sigh*. It disappears at a little before sundown somewhere in the bushes. I don't know how it's surviving every night since we have many predators here (raccoons, skunks, opossums and grey foxes). 

I decided to try and figure out what kind of chicken it is. I found only one breed on www.BackYardChickens.com that evenly remotely looks like it--the Euskal Oiloa: Marraduna Basque. Apparently, this breed loves free ranging (ya' think?). It is considered a rare Spanish breed. Of course something like this would show up here instead of a regular run-of-the-mill chicken. If anyone knows more about this breed, please tell me if I'm off base in concluding this is what it is. I don't have any new photos of the chicken because it's camera shy. It does look more healthy just since these photos were taken. It must be finding some really good eats here.

A May day "basket" of flowers for everyone

"Disneyland" rose in forefront with "Blue Ribbon" peeking its pale purple self from behind
Then going clockwise up and around the bird fountain:
"Our Lady of Guadalupe" rose
"Ronald Reagan"
"Honey Bouquet"
"My Fifi"

I've been in the middle of transitioning to a new computer all day so my intention of posting photos of lots of blooms to wish everyone a happy first of May kind of fell by the wayside until late in the evening. Oh well. Better late than never, right?

When I was young, my mom told me about the old tradition of filling a basket of flowers for the first day of May and giving them to someone special. I have so many people who are special to me (all of you) I can't fill up real baskets for everyone and deliver them in person. But I can share these images instead and we can pretend, okay?

"Blue Ribbon" with a backdrop of fennel, "Disneyland" and our living room windows

The past week, I've been posting a bloom a day in order to share the explosion of color happening in the garden right now (the front garden being the most colorful). Today, I'm sharing some wider shots to illustrate that I'm not exaggerating when I say it is "exploding with color".

Same roses as mentioned above except for the "Abraham Darby" top left and "Parade" to its right

I love when the garden puts on this show. Although most of the roses continue to bloom throughout the summer and fall, there isn't ever quite the same abundance of blooms as there are at this time of the year.  Every time I look out the living room windows, I smile.

"Janice Kellogg" in forefront
"Our Lady of Guadalupe", "Ronald Reagan", and "Honey Bouquet" in background

Bloom-a-day 7: Jupiter's Beard (aka Valerian)

I'd never seen it before moving here. I first saw it in a neglected planter box growing at the base of a street tree in the middle of the sidewalk in an industrial part of a neighboring town. Delightful and airy, it seemed so out of place in that forlorn and forgotten sea of parched ground, dust, concrete and asphalt that made even the street trees look sickly. It didn't seem to notice.

Sometime the following year, it showed up in our garden. It chose the line of poor clay soil along the base of our picket fence.

"Well, hello!" I said once I spotted the first volunteers, "I recognize you. I'd be happy to have you live here."

And so it did.

I first learned its common name, "Jupiter's Beard". Most of the blooms are a deep dark pink, but there is one patch right under the mailbox that is the purest white.

I've since come to learn that this plant is also known as "Valerian" (the proper name is Centranthus ruber but who likes that name when you can call something "Jupiter's Beard"?).

The hummingbirds and bees don't care what name it has. They love the nectar from the big clusters of tiny blooms. During the day, the fence-line is a veritable buffet for the critters.

In late November when the night air begins to have a chill, the stems will be missing most of their leaves. A few stray blooms will still be reaching for the sun that has slipped low in the autumnal sky. That is when the "Jupiter's Beard" gets a close "shave" as I trim each stem to the ground.

The perennial roots rest comfortably all winter until spring's warmth wakes them. And then they line the base of the picket fence once again.

I got my very own "wild turkey surprise"

Does anyone else remember the old Bugs Bunny and Tasmanian Devil cartoon "Bedeviled Rabbit"? Bugs serves Taz a special "treat" called "wild turkey surprise".

Well, I got my very own "wild turkey surprise" when I went out to stroll around the garden just before sunset on Tuesday. I walked down the deck stairs and headed to the bird fountain to top it off with water from the garden hose. I heard a funny "cluck cluck" sound coming from the vicinity of the mandarin tree just past the lemon tree. I'm used to just about every sound that happens in my garden so when I hear something new, it's obvious. I peered in the direction of the sound through the branches as I walked.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a giant wild turkey meandering across the flagstones not far from me!

Taller than a goose with the top of it's head about 4 feet tall, this thing was quite striking considering that most of the wild birds I see in my garden are far smaller. I immediately walked backwards as stealthily as possible toward the house so I could dash in to get my camera--hoping the whole time that it wouldn't leave until I got back out. On my way in the back door I yelled to Hubby, "There's a wild turkey in the back garden!" and dashed into my studio to get my camera out of the camera bag.

I was fortunate that it hadn't left when I got back out. The turkey was moving slowly through the garden mostly because it had a severe limp. I noticed a large patch of feathers on it's front that were out of place and sticking out at a right angle from its body. It looked like it had been in a recent scuffle.

From what I could tell it was a male (possibly a juvenile called a "jake" but I'm not sure as I'm not well versed in wild turkeys).

The turkey made an entire circuit around the garden following the path that goes around the pond. I kept my distance allowing the pond to be a buffer between it and I. I let my zoom lens bridge the gap between us. I didn't want to scare it or cause it to become agressive (turkeys can be dangerous if provoked).

After getting a few shots, I put my camera down for a time while I filled up the bird fountain using the garden hose. It kept an eye on me from behind a palm tree.

When I had my back turned, I suddenly heard a great commotion. I turned to see that it had taken flight and was sitting on the roof of the neighbor's garage that is right on the property line between our garden and theirs. I went back inside to tell Hubby it was still there if he wanted to come see it. He did and we watched it from the safety of our deck chairs until it took flight again and flew to roost in the great stand of eucalyptus trees that grow just over our back fence on open land belonging to the nearby oil refinery.

The rest of the evening we could hear the turkey's gobbling vibrato in the distance as the sun set just past the eucalyptus it had chosen to roost in for the night. I can now add this exciting experience to my list of wildlife encounters in my little semi-rural backyard wildlife habitat.

I found this year's ladybug nursery

Every year it shows up in a different place. I never know quite where it will be or if it will "be" at all. Discovering the place where the previous year's ladybugs laid their eggs to hatch and transform the following spring is a mystery I've come to enjoy solving.

The first year the ladybugs set up a nursery, it was within and under the canopy of the cherry tree and "the thicket". Another year, I found the newly transformed ladybugs in the pots of lavender crawling around enjoying the blooms. Last year they were housed in a thick stand of dandelions against the deck.

Today, I discovered that this year the nursery is in a patch of spring grasses and wild geraniums I let grow until late last week when I went in with the weed whacker and took the height down to about 4-5" so it wasn't such a jungle. I'm glad I didn't go in and cut everything off to the ground or I would have destroyed the ladybug nursery without knowing it until it was too late. Whew!

The larvae above is probably not far from transforming like its "sibling" below

The same day I cut the spring grasses, I also trimmed up the two fan palms. Part of my routine when I trim off the fronds is to cut the fans at the base and toss the thick woody stem in the green waste can. Then I lay the fans out on the ground on top of weeds or grasses that I want to discourage from growing. Over time the palm fronds dry and slowly deterioriate into nutrients for the soil.

When I was trimming the palms last week, there were a few ladybugs in the palm fronds, but they were more mature ladybugs and I didn't see any larvae so I had to rule out the palms as the place for this year's nursery. Today when I did find it, it was because I'd put one of the palm fans on some of the grass I had cut. The newly-transformed ladybugs and yet-to-transform ladybug larvae were all over the solitary fan frond basking in the spring sunshine. Their hatching spot must have been around the bases of the clumps of spring grass I had cut back.

Before they into cute little beetles, ladybug larvae look pretty scary

Ladybugs and ladybug larvae eat a lot of aphids. They will choose a nursery location that will have a good food source for when the eggs hatch.  Shortly after I stopped using pesticides in my garden was when the ladybugs started showing up and setting up their nursery each year.

You'd think since I stopped using pesticides (even spray soaps) that my garden (particularly my roses) would be overrun with aphids, right?  Wrong. The opposite has happened. I have less aphids and more ladybugs, ladybug larvae, birds and preying mantis! The aphids I do find on my roses (especially in the spring when the new growth comes out) are quickly gobbled up by a host of predators.

The garden kitty loves finding little nests and hidey-holes around the garden

I will admit that in order to enjoy this wonderful beneficial miracle I have to let my garden be a little on the shaggy side. Autumn clean-up is minimal too so I don't disturb eggs that have been laid by ladybugs or preying mantis. But for me, the reward is so great, I don't mind. The "natural look" reminds me of the mountain meadows I loved as a child. And I get to marvel at the wonders of nature all over again just like I did back then.

I think it's almost time to decommission the winter bird feeders

In February, our local Wild Birds Unlimited store had a special on a fun Valentine feeder. If you bought it at regular price, you got 5 lbs. of peanuts in the shell for free. I decided to splurge since I've been wanting one of these coil feeders for a while now to feed the California Scrub Jays that frequent our garden.

The feeder has been out for over a month now. Usually it stays full for a look time and I've only had to refill it once a week. That was until something else discovered it...

I suspect that the squirrels have finally figured out how to dine at the peanut buffet as easily as the jays have been, because when I replenish the peanuts they are almost all gone by the next day except for a few in the bottom. I have also noticed peanut shell debris around the base of the feeder which is atypical for the jays who prefer to extract a peanut and then fly up into the branches of the neighboring trees to dine on the contents. Squirrels prefer to eat and litter right at the feeder.

It's okay. The timing is good. I don't have very many more peanuts left--probably enough to fill the heart one last time. The daytime temps are warm enough now (it's 72F/22C today) that the bugs are coming out along with the green leaves. It's time for all the birds to do their job of eating the bugs in my garden as they've done for the past decade. I'm already seeing tiny bushtits flitting among the branches of my rosebushes feeding on newly hatched aphids (they will keep my roses aphid-free as they always do).

And the scrub jays will transition from the peanuts I've been giving them as a winter treat back to eating small reptiles, small animals and larger insects. They're a great way to control things like grasshoppers, cockroaches, snakes, lizards, frogs and rodents.