Tag: pollinators

gardening

April days, egg yolks and weeds

suzielinn

The garden in mid April is a tale of the good, the lovely and the terrible, horrible, no good, really bad.

We have been blessed with rainy weather the past few weeks, with enough cloudy days in between rain showers to keep the temperatures down and the humidity high. The plants are loving it. Alas. Both the desired plants and the non-desired are loving it. But let’s save those undesired plants for later…

“Anyone who thinks gardening begins in the spring and ends in the fall is missing the best part of the whole year, for gardening begins in January with a dream.” ~ Josephine Nuese

This year’s garden began shortly before the calendar rolled over to 2026, when those first seed catalogs landed in the mailbox and dreams and plans were put on paper. Tomato seeds were sown in trays on the kitchen table sometime between Christmas and the new year and nurtured indoors until it was safe to plant outside. There is, perhaps, nothing more rewarding than watching your own homegrown tomato plant grow and flourish, aside from watching it produce a harvest. Those harvest days are coming; in the meantime, I am content watching the plants grow.

Yellow pear tomato has long been my favorite variety, as it has proven year after year to produce well in my garden – even in the heat of summer and well in to the fall. But there is always room for testing out new-to-me tomatoes and two that I am growing for the first time this year are Crokini and Egg Yolk.

Crokini, shown above.

Egg yolk, shown below. (A funny name for a tomato, but it is suppose to have bright yellow fruits – like an egg yolk.)

Yes, those are beans popping up with the tomatoes. I am attempting to outsmart the rabbits by growing their beloved green beans just out of their easy reach. So far, so good!

For happy health, fuel yourself with dreams and greens. ~ Terri Guillemets

I started down the road of edimental (edible + ornamental) food forest gardening around 2021 as a way to garden myself back to health and grow at least a bit of my produce. Two of my earliest purchases were longevity spinach and Okinawa spinach. Both are tender perennials that overwinter inside, tucked in a corner of our kitchen. By the end of winter, they always look more than a little sad but they rebound quickly once outside. I am still amazed that I can harvest fresh greens throughout our Texas summers.

Longevity spinach, shown above.

Longevity spinach (back left) and Okinawa spinach (front right), shown below.

Swiss chard, shown below, is another green that provides abundant harvests in my region. This one is, perhaps, one of the loveliest, the largest and most lush Swiss chards I have ever grown. I really must harvest more but it really puts the “ornamental” in edimental and makes it difficult to clip any leaves. Swiss chard, as a biennial, has a two year growing cycle. Plant it once and you have fresh salad greens for two years. (Sneak peak: The photo below also shows some of the terrible, horrible going on in my garden!)

Garlic was planted in the late fall, later than I would normally plant, but rotator cuff surgery kept me out of the garden in early fall. A few of the garlic beds were later sown with cilantro seeds, in hopes of getting a double harvest. (Photo below.) We shall see how it actually worked when the garlic is pulled in late spring to early summer… but the cilantro has been wonderful.

I am allowing some of the cilantro to bloom as it provides much needed nectar this time of year. Bonus: The blooms are quite lovely.

(Cilantro in bloom, shown below.)

Cilantro is a cool season herb and will not take our summer heat in North Texas. If one is dreaming of fresh salsa, made exclusively from the garden, it is best to give up those dreams or move to a more favorable gardening region. Slight tweaks to the dreams can make it work. One could grow their cilantro in the fall through early spring (it tolerates our winter cold, if given protection during extreme cold/snow/ice), harvest and freeze the cilantro in spring, all the while waiting on the onions, tomatoes and peppers to be ready to harvest. The cilantro will discolor some when thawed, but still retains its flavor. (It quickly loses its flavor when dehydrated.) Another tweak may actually be throwing in the trowel and buying cilantro at the store when your summer veg are ready for salsa making. I have dreams one day of growing cilantro (and dill!) hydroponically inside during the summer, but have not reached that level quite yet.

Speaking of more favorable gardening regions… I was born and raised in America’s breadbasket – the rich soils and abundant rains of the Midwest. I have fond memories of my childhood, eating mulberries from the tree that grew wild outside our small town’s public swimming pool. In my quest to grow nutrient dense foods for myself, I turned to the lowly mulberry. A weedy shrubby tree to some. Dark and rich in anthocyanins to others. This spring has found me introducing my young adult offspring, currently living at home, to the joys of fresh picked mulberries, the purple pigment staining the fingers and lips.

(Issai mulberry, shown below.)

I have lived in Texas for nearly 40 years now and have gardened the same plot of land in North Texas for 30 years. I have loved and planted Texas native plants all along. Alas. Growing the bluebonnet, our state flower, continues to mystify me. For three years in a row now, I have officially had ONE lone bluebonnet. I have sown and scattered seeds in every manner possible, all to little avail. The first lone bluebonnet appeared in the middle of a pathway, up near our house. Last year, the solitary bluebonnet popped up about halfway down our gently sloping back yard. This year, the solo wildflower showed up beside the pathway at the end of the slope, right before our property turns in to city land. What will next year bring? Perhaps a plethora of bluebonnets on city property? Stay tuned for updates in spring 2027! In the meantime, I have been enjoying this lovely pop of bright blue. (Bluebonnet shown below.)

Weeds are nature’s graffiti. ~ J.L.W. Brooks

Is the pink evening primrose a weed or a wildflower? The answer depends. It is quite possibly shifting from lovely to horrible as I type. Sure, it is beautiful en masse along our Texas roadways. Taking over my garden? Not so much. Lovely today, nature’s graffiti tomorrow. Next month, when it has finished blooming, I shall take a hoe to it and reduce it’s footprint in my garden. In the meantime, I will enjoy it’s beauty, just as the bees are enjoying it’s nectar. (Pink evening primrose, shown below.)

Weeds are Nature’s makeshift. She rejoices in the grass and the grain, but when these fail to cover her nakedness she resorts to weeds. ~John Burroughs

That line between unwanted weed and wanted flower is hazy at best. My beloved passionvine is one such “somewhere between unwanted and wanted” flower in my garden. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 1.) It is stunning in bloom! 2.) It is the host plant for gulf fritillary butterflies, which I adore. 3.) I love planting for our pollinators and it sure does lure them in. 4.) Did I mention it is stunning? Yes. But it deserves mentioning twice because it has such an unusual flower and incredible tropical vibe. Alas. Scrambling over everything that stops for a nanosecond? Not so much. Thankfully, the unwanted tender young seedlings are a cinch to pull up. I have made a note to myself to keep three or four vines, but not a dozen. And I will only keep those seedlings that sprouted up by something vertical to climb. All others will be removed! (…so she says now…) The passionvine pictured below is safe, as I can easily train the vine from this stack of old metal pieces and parts toward an arbor nearby.

I have also vowed to keep my pathways open this year and am off to a great start. (…though the year is still young…) I have been potting up and giving away the extra Salvia coccinea in the pathway shown below, as last year it became nearly impassable by September. I have a dozen or so more young seedlings that need to be dug this weekend. And, yes, I did decide to leave the penstemon (far left in photograph) as it won’t sprawl and hog the pathway the way an ornamental salvia will.

Weeds are great travelers; they are, indeed, the tramps of the vegetable world. They are going east, west, north, south; they walk; they fly; they swim; they steal a ride; they travel by rail, by flood, by wind; they go under ground, and they go above, across lots, and by the highway. ~ John Burroughs

Now about those “true” weeds and the terrible, horrible, no good really bad stuff going on in the garden. Enter: briar vine. Can I get an Amen?! And can I please get some help battling it?! If ever there was a weed that travels east, west, north and south, this is it. And yes, the vines go underground and the vines go above ground. I remain committed to organic gardening and will not use herbicides, especially now that I am growing food for my health, but the digging and weeding and gently pulling it off desired plants seems endless. In addition to briar vine, I battle trumpet vine – a variety that was sold as “non invasive – and junk trees galore – squirrel and wind planted oaks, pecans and elms. At least I will always have something to weed, said no gardener ever.

A beautiful clematis, being swallowed alive by briar vine, is shown below.

All photographs were taken April 13, 2026, in my Southern Denton County, Texas, garden, zone 8b.

All links are provided as a courtesy; I do not receive money or products from any companies linked.

gardening, nature

Happy Native Plant Week

suzielinn

I don’t know about you, but I never miss a chance to celebrate, especially when celebrating means buying a new plant. Or two. Or ten. Of course, celebrating Texas Native Plant Week requires gardeners (for me, at least) to visit a garden center. Or at the very least, it allows us to promote the many benefits of our wide variety of plants native to this state.

Rick Perry, our former governor, designated the third week of October as Texas Native Plant Week in 2009. Our state’s Arbor Day is also in the fall – the first Friday in November. Now many people may wonder why we celebrate plants in the fall in Texas when many states are already experiencing their first freezes of the season or will soon be buried under a blanket of snow. Fall is actually the best time to plant hardy perennials, trees and shrubs in southern climates, as our temperatures are cooler and rainfall more plentiful. Fall planting gives plants additional time to adjust before our hot and dry summers hit.

Adding native plants – ones that are better adapted to growing in our soils and climate – preserve our water resources, as they require less water once established. As our state’s population continues to grow, our manmade lakes will feel the strain that traditional landscapes require. Water restrictions will to be the norm for most of the state going forward. Native plants also don’t need special treatment to thrive, no fertilizers or special soil mixes. They also provide much needed native habitat and food for our wildlife and help conserve our wildlife populations.

So here we are – Happy Texas Native Plant Week! Have a slice of cake and plant a few natives in your landscape. Here are some of my favorite native plants, in no particular order.

Echinacea, commonly known as coneflower: A wonderful reseeding perennial. A wide variety of insects will nectar on its blooms and songbirds will feast on the dried seeds through the winter. What seeds remain in late winter, I will cut back and scatter throughout the garden. (Coneflower is shown in photograph above.)

Callirhoe involucrata, commonly known as winecups: A rosette of greenery will emerge from its tuberous root in late winter and will scamper up and over and about the garden. It will start blooming in late spring in to early summer. It is dormant in the heat of summer and fall. (Winecup is shown in photograph above.)

Cephalanthus occidentalis, commonly known as buttonbush: I would have a hard time selecting a favorite native plant, but buttonbush would likely be it. I love standing under the small tree when it is in bloom and watching just an outstanding variety of insects nectaring on the orb shaped flowers. Where else can you get a Dr. Seuss style bloom that is so well loved by the insect world? (Buttonbush is shown above.)

Cornus drummondii, commonly known as rough-leaf dogwood: For years – okay, two decades?! – I tried to eliminate this shrubby tree from my garden, as it wants to spread and take over. Alas. I have given in to its lovely blossoms and its willingness to thrive on neglect. Added bonuses: Insects love the blooms and songbirds love the berries. (Rough-leaf dogwood shown above.)

Twenty five years and another lifetime ago, I worked at a small organic garden center in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. We received a much-awaited shipment of native plants. Alas. As the driver opened the back of the box truck, with a cluster of garden center employees standing ready to Ooh and Aw over the plants, horror awaited. The heavy wooden shelf system had collapsed during transit and crushed everything underneath, including a dozen or so rough-leaf dogwood trees. Nearly everything in the truck lay broken and bruised and little was salvageable. That night after work, I took home a tiny broken twig of rough-leaf dogwood. Within two years, I was trying to eliminate it from my garden because it was like the Little Engine That Could. It thought it could grow. It thought it could grow. And grow it did! Now I absolutely love it and am glad I made peace with its determined growing habits.

Callicarpa americana, commonly known as beautyberry: A shrub with clusters of flowers in the spring, followed by brilliant purple berries in the summer and fall. (Beautyberry shown in photographs above and below.)

Calyptocarpus vialis, commonly known as horseherb: There is a native plant for every growing situation and need. This is a fabulous lowgrowing ground cover for shady areas. (Horseherb shown below.)

Monarda fistulosa, commonly known as beebalm: There are many beebalms on the market, but the majority of them are hybridized, non-native varieties. Those tend to succumb to powdery mildew in this area and their flowers lack the nectar of the native variety. Fistulosa is the native one; many garden centers offer it in their herb section. This beebalm is especially loved by butterflies as the nectar is deep within the flower. (Swallowtail butterfly shown on monarda fistulosa in photograph below.)

Penstemon tenuis: A lovely reseeding perennial. This penstemon blooms very early in the spring, at a critical time for insects. The plants are light and airy, with blooms held above the foliage. (Penstemon tenuis shown in bottom two photographs.)

There you have it – some of my favorite Texas native plants. No matter how you celebrate Texas Native Plant Week, I hope you get to enjoy some cake and visit one of the many wonderful garden centers we have throughout our state. We are so fortunate to have a number of locally owned garden centers that were early on the native plant bandwagon and really fought to bring native plants to the mainstream. Please seek them out and support them whenever possible!

All photographs taken in my own garden – zone 8b, southern Denton County, Texas.

gardening, nature

The monarchs are here!

suzielinn

I felt a bit like a mashup of Paul Revere and the poet Richard Le Gallienne today, though instead shouting that the redcoats were coming nor penning about a poem about a brown bird singing in the apple tree and pulling me out to the garden, I was all abuzz that the monarch are here! In my garden! Not one. Plural. Monarchs. The monarchs are here!

My garden happens to sit perfectly along their migration path. Each spring, the monarchs emerge from their winter habitat in Mexico and travel north for the summer. Along the way, they search for milkweed – the monarch’s host plant – to lay their eggs on. But now it is autumn and they are migrating south for the winter and they are in search of fuel – in the form of nectar – for the long journey that still lies ahead of them. Fall blooming flowers are critical for their survival.

Insects may be our canary in the coalmine – the warning sign of environmental troubles ahead. They are the most vulnerable to shifts in climate and weather extremes. As more and more wild lands are destroyed and either conventionally farmed (ie: with chemicals) or paved over for subdivisions and highways, insects – including the beloved monarch butterflies – find less and less food in the wild. Restoring native habitat is critically important. But it doesn’t take an acre to help. Anyone with a bit of space, even those with balconies or a small patio can grow a container of fall blooming flowers for the monarchs to feed on as they are passing through.

My own garden right now looks a bit worse for the wear, as I have been out of commission for the past two months. Thankfully, I do favor plants that not only grew in my absence, some seemed to thrive on my neglect! As I was getting around to leave for physical therapy earlier today, I happened to notice one, two, four, six and more monarchs fluttering about my garden. I quickly grabbed my camera and out to the garden I went. I did manage to make it to therapy on time, though I was still picking dried leaves and seeds off my clothes and shaking them out of my hair as I walked in to my session. As soon as I was finished, it was back out to the garden, which is where The Husband found me some time later, still laughing and flitting about my garden, as I snapped dozens and dozens of photographs of the monarchs.

Following are a few easy steps we all can take to help the monarchs.

1.) No pesticides or insecticides. Even organic ones can and do kill beneficial insects. The majority of insects in the world are harmless. Plants that are grown specifically for butterflies, from their host plants to flowering nectar plants, must be organic.

2.) Water is crucial for butterflies. Provide a shallow basin with pebbles or shells for them to land on.

3.) Trees provide much needed nighttime roosting spots for butterflies, as well as shelter from stormy weather.

4.) Plant natives whenever possible! Many of the hybridized plants on the market have been bred for larger flowers, but they often lack the rich nectar that the native variety have. When shopping for plants, avoid ones that have a specific name in quotation marks or have a trademark emblem next to the name. Those are easily identified as hybridized varieties.

5.) Plant well adapted fall blooming plants that will survive our summer heat and drought. Some examples of plants that will bloom in North Texas during the fall monarch migration include: zinnias, cosmos, tithonia (Mexican sunflower), Mexican mint marigold and pentas. The two flowers the monarchs were nectaring on in my garden were cosmos and zinnia, both well adapted annuals.

6.) Plant a wide variety of plants so you always have something in bloom. A variety of flower colors and flower shapes will also attract a wider variety of butterflies, not just monarchs.

7.) Plant in groupings of three or more as a larger expanse of blooms will be more visible to butterflies flying overhead. This also allows butterflies to nectar from multiple plants without needing to fly off so soon in search of additional food.

Some fall blooming Texas natives include: Anise hyssop (Agastache foeniculum), Frostweed (Verbesina virginica), Gaillardia (Gaillardia aristata), Cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis), Ironweed (Vernonia baldwinii), Gregg’s mistflower (Conoclinium greggii), White boneset (Eupatorium serotinum), Zexmenia, Turk’s cap (Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii), Prairie verbena (Glandularia bipinnatifida), Gray vervain (Verbena canescens), Aromatic (Fall) aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium) and Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea).

Varieties of Rudbeckia/Black-eyed Susan: Rudbeckia hirta, Rudbeckia fulgida, Rudbeckia laciniata, Rudbeckia maxima, Rudbeckia texana, Rudbeckia triloba.

Varieties of Liatris/Gayfeather: Liatris acidota, Liatris aestivalis, Liatris aspera, Liatris elegans, Liatris lancifolia, Liatris punctata, Liatris tenuis.

Lantana urticoides is native to this area. There are numerous other lantana varieties      available —   a few are perennial, but many on the market are annuals in our area. Special note: The berries on Lantana urticoides are poisonous.

Fall blooming salvia varieties include: Pitcher sage (Salvia azurea), Scarlet sage (Salvia coccinea), Mealy sage (Salvia farinacea), Autumn sage (Salvia greggii).

Keep calm and garden on and consider planting a butterfly garden.

All photographs were taken October 22nd, 2025, in my southern Denton County, Texas, garden. I have organically gardened this piece of earth – a large suburban lot – for 30 years.

I meant to do my work today by Richard Le Gallienne

 I meant to do my work today—
   But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
   And all the leaves were calling me. 

And the wind went sighing over the land,
   Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand—
   So what could I do but laugh and go?

gardening, nature

Spring flew swiftly by…

suzielinn

“Now is it as if Spring had never been,
And Winter but a memory and dream,
Here where the Summer stands, her lap of green
Heaped high with bloom and beam…” ~ Madison Julius Cawein

Spring came and went in a blink of an eye and somehow it is July already, the midpoint of the calendar year. The garden is indeed heaped high in bloom – daylilies, hibiscus and coneflowers, oh my! Such a riot of colors! Sometimes color combinations in my garden are planned. Other times, they are quite accidental, as is the case of the lavender Monarda fistulosa (bee balm) and the bright orange of Bright Lights Cosmos. (Shown below.)

Thomas Edison is reported to have only kept a personal diary for a few short days while on a vacation in 1885, but one of his few entries is perfectly poetic:

Arose early, went out to flirt with the flowers.

I feel much the same way each morning. What a delight it is to stroll the garden, camera in hand, and flirt with the day’s flowers and whisper a soft “Hello” to the bees buzzing about.

The hardy hibiscus, with their long pistil and ample supply of pollen, lures in bumblebees galore. (Shown above) Bumblebees are quite territorial and it is not uncommon to witness a rumble and a tumble as two fight over their garden space. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law” clearly does not apply to pollen and bumblebees!

“Nature is always beautiful to those who always look for beauty in her.” ~ The Harvest of a Quiet Eye: Leisure Thoughts for Busy Lives by John Richard Vernon

In the bug world, there are beneficial insects and harmful insects and those straddling the middle as either sometimes good/sometimes bad or neither overly good nor overly bad. There are beautiful insects, such as the monarch butterfly or the luna moth. And then there are ugly or creepy insects, such as, well… I don’t want to disturb my readers so we will leave ugly and creepy to your imagination. At first glance, robber flies (shown below) may not be as beautiful as, say, a lady beetle, but they are still… well, Beauty can be in the eye of the beholder, amiright? There is a primitive, utilitarian beauty to the humble robber fly. Large eyes. Long legs. Both beneficial in their quest for prey. Which brings me to their other status in the bug world. Robber flies are beneficial because they kill harmful insects, such as grasshoppers and leafhoppers. Alas. They also eat butterflies and dragonflies, which puts them smack in that middle ground. Beneficial? Yes. Sometimes. …If only we could direct them as to what they should be preying on…

A number of lizards call my gardens home, for which I am eternally grateful. However, they, too, are a species that have both beneficial and sad dining habits. The anole, shown below, had just eaten a grasshopper when I snapped this photograph. Knowing Texas summers and baseball bat size grasshoppers go hand in hand, I am appreciative of this fella’s hard work and dedication to taking one down. I will chose to overlook his ability to also take down dragonflies.

As a child, I memorized Richard Le Gallienne’s poem, “I meant to do my work today.” The words still bubble up in my soul whenever I feel the pull of nature. “I meant to do my work today – but a brown bird sang in the apple tree and a butterfly flitted across the field…”

This morning, I found myself with five extra minutes before I needed to leave for a class at the gym, so I grabbed my camera and headed to the back gardens. Not one, but four butterflies flitted across my garden! Gulf fritillary butterflies (shown above and below) had found my garden and were busy dancing about, depositing their eggs on my passionvine – Mother Nature’s way of giving my garden an A+, gold star and seal of approval all in one wonderful moment. As the poem goes, “What else could I do but laugh and go?” And what fun it was to photograph them!

“Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We’ll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young…”
~ To a Butterfly by William Wordsworth

The year has gone by much too fast, as it always has a way of doing the older we get. But here’s to slowing down and enjoying the garden and spending time in nature whenever we can.

“Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came… The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green, and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year, and all things were glad and flourishing.” ~ Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

(All photographs taken in my Southern Denton County, Texas, garden between mid-June and July 3rd.)

gardening, nature

A (garden) revolution going on

suzielinn

What is more thrilling than spending five hours with like minded gardeners and naturalists on a cold January day? Seeing a room full of people that have embraced native Texas plants, feeling their enthusiasm about restoring our prairie ecosystem and knowing that so many have joined the revolution and are planting native plants.

“Just dig it: Practical ideas for adding native plants to your yard” was hosted by Friends of LLELA – Lake Lewisville Environmental Learning Area – earlier this month, and featured four wonderful speakers each discussing different aspects of gardening with native prairie plants.

Now before I go on, I simply must share a photograph of my son, taken during a nature class at LLELA, many moons ago. My son is now a college graduate and, thankfully, still loves the outdoors. I have faith that this generation of kids will take the baton and carry on protecting and restoring important ecosystems around the globe.

Before we bought our home nearly thirty years ago, I knew “how” I wanted to garden – passionately, organically, naturally. My garden has evolved a lot over the decades, but those three things have never changed. I have always loved our native plants and – once upon a time – worked at an organic garden center that was one of the few (at that time) in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex that offered native plants. Yes, I once had over 150 antique and heirloom roses. But I also incorporated a variety of native plants. Yes, my garden now grows fruits and vegetables. But I still love native plants and try to squeeze in as many as possible. I am not a purist. I don’t personally believe that the average home garden has to be 100 percent native plants to be beneficial. I believe that every bit of habitat we can provide for wildlife is important. I believe that one can have entirely native prairie plants or a mix of native and non-native plants. Every action to preserve or restore habitat is important, no matter how small.

My garden is located in Denton county, just north of Dallas and Fort Worth, in the Cross Timbers and Prairies Ecological Region. This area was originally a combination of prairie and woodland, both of which provided a lush habitat for a large number of mammals and birds. Alas. As the song goes, “They paved paradise and put in a parking lot.” They also paved paradise and put in a major north-south interstate, I-35. One can drive from the southern border of Texas, past my garden just north of Dallas-Fort Worth, and all the way north to Minnesota. This central section of America is a major flight path for many migratory birds, as well as the now threated monarch butterfly. A road trip game of I Spy will net you a lot of billboards, fast food restaurants and acres of cultivated farmland, but very little wildlife habitat, either preserved or restored. This midsection of America is crucial for the survival of many birds and butterflies, which is why it is so important to plant native plants whenever possible – whether it be in the home garden, school garden or local nature center.

What can the average suburban or urban landowner do to counter all of that pavement and help restore lost habitat? Quite a bit, actually, just by reducing our lawn size and putting in a few native plants that provides much needed food and shelter. Or go a step or two further and put in a pocket prairie, a native prairie garden on less than an acre. This can be a small residential front yard or an entire backyard, whatever fits your style. In the ever-expanding sea of concrete throughout the central portion of America, every bit is important.

Andy and Sally Wasowski’s books on native plants and naturalistic gardening (shown above) were some of the first books that I bought after we purchased our home. They have been my inspiration and guide, both are books I go back to time and again. Some of the beautiful flowers I first learned about from Native Texas Plants are shown and briefly described below.

Penstemon tenuis, aka Gulf coast penstemon, shown below, is a great example of how fluid and ever changing native garden are. I no longer know where this was originally planted in my garden as it has popped up randomly here and there for many, many years. It has never been an aggressive reseeder, though any unwanted plants can easily be dug up and shared with fellow gardeners. This penstemon is extremely easy to grow and the lovely soft lavender color goes with many color schemes, if that is something that interests you. It is always covered with pollinators. This penstemon blooms early in the spring.

Echinacea, shown below, is another plant that moves about my garden and is always covered in pollinators. I leave the old flowerheads on the stalks over winter as songbirds love to feast on the seeds. In late winter I scatter any seeds that remain wherever I would like more to pop up.

Sisyrinchium, aka blue-eyed grass, shown below, is perhaps one of my favorite native plants. I love how dainty and crystal blue the flowers are. This is another early spring bloomer.

Malvaviscus drummondii, aka turk’s cap, shown below, is a highly adaptable plant, growing well in sun or shade and in wet or dry conditions. This is a favorite of hummingbirds and butterflies. It blooms through the heat of summer and up to the first hard freeze.

Callirhoe involucrata, aka winecup, shown below, rambles and scrambles about the garden. It grows from a tuber to form a rosette that then extends every which way. It blooms very early in the spring in my garden. Every few years, I dig out the older overgrown tubers and toss them in the compost pile, allowing the smaller tubers to grow and carry on.

Monarda fistulosa (shown below) is the native, wild growing bee balm. It is harder to find (often sold alongside herbs) but much more hardy than the newer hybridized variations.

A few years ago, I had both the wild bee balm and a hybridized variety growing side by side. The wild bee balm was covered in pollinators while the hybridized one was void of any insects. This was a great chance to witness why the wild varieties are favored by wildlife, as many hybridized plants are bred for color or size and often lack the amount of pollen and nectar that wild plants contain.

I had to save the best for last. My very favorite native plant of all time – Cephalanthus occidentalis, aka buttonbush, shown below. Yes, it does grow naturally along creeks and rivers, but it will grow nicely in a residential yard. Buttonbush can be pruned up to form a small scale tree, much as the non-native crepe myrtle. Buttonbush, however, has amazing, out of this world, blooming orbs!

Buttonbush, shown above and below, is always covered in pollinators when in bloom.

All photographs were taken in my suburban North Texas garden.