Sad time for trees

The devastation wrought by the various conifer beetles around here has gotten really, really bad.

The view above was taken from the top of the Monarch Pass gondola. It looks like that entire hillside is going to be treeless before too long. (I've written about this scourge before; here's a collection of my blog posts containing the word "beetle.")

Here's another shot, in which you can see some of the ski runs at Monarch. They've had to thin out trees up there, for safety. It's made some of the runs more fun (easier tree-skiing) but I'm worried that eventually the scenery I love so much to take in while skiing will be very different in years to come.

I know some areas of the state are harder-hit than our valley. I was appalled at the views like this one, taken from my car on a short road trip further south...

I'm sure life will eventually adapt, and these hillsides will eventually have some sort of trees on them. But for the rest of my life, anyway, it's going to be dead trees wherever you go.

Fluttering by

On a recent trip to the really big city we took in a new (to us) museum experience, among other fun activities (including granddaughter babysitting!).

The Houston Museum of Natural Science's Butterfly Center is a really amazing place, one that was not in existence the last time I visited the Museum (since that was a long time ago). The educational exhibits inside are very interesting and informative, and they even have a whole wall of chrysalises in various stages of metamorphosis—some of our group even got to see a new butterfly emerging!

But the big draw is the multi-story butterfly garden where hundreds (possibly more?) of the lovely creatures flutter about in their multicolored and delicate beauty. On the right you can see a more-or-less panoramic shot of the garden, to give some idea of its scale.

Such a wonderful array of butterflies! And many posing so perfectly for the cameras...

No, I can't identify any of these guys for you. But lack of knowledge didn't diminish my enjoyment in the least. Various practical questions did arise during our tour of the facility, though, including how they're sure the lovelies get enough food...

feeding stations are scattered around the garden

...and what do they do about population control! We saw several instances of new life getting started, by the way of mating behaviors...

...but we're not sure how they keep the population from outgrowing the space. Someone suggested that overnight they bring in some snakes from elsewhere in the Museum or from the zoo! Glad that wasn't on display during our visit.

Buckets o' blooms

Our damp spring (which was actually a damp early summer as well) has really given us a bumper crop of flowers in the area.

The fabulous crepe myrtles all over town are always reliable summer bloomers, but this year, with the unaccustomed extra moisture, they've really outdone themselves. The pictures in this post were taken just in my neighborhood, but 'hoods all over town can boast similar crops.

In addition to their impressive courage in blooming throughout our hot summers, the variety of their coloration is a big reason they're so popular. My favorite color is the deep red, but I suspect they are the least robust of the varieties: you don't see many of them, and when you do, they don't seem to have as many blooms. I only found a couple of examples on my walks the last few days, and their blooms didn't compare favorably at all with their paler cousins, so I didn't take any pictures of them.

But, oh my gosh! the pinks...

...the lilacs...

...the whites...

...the purples...

...aren't they amazing?!

Here's a look at a whole tree, so you can see how absolutely loaded those branches are:

The whites deserve special mention, I think. They must be among the most robust, if not the most. (In our yard, we have a white and a pink and the white has 'way overshadowed its sib in the years since I planted them both at the same time.) There are quite a few yards in my neighborhood that look a little like they've seen some snow, the white blossoms are so prolific...

even after all those blooms have fallen,
there are still plenty on the tree!

Aren't these lovely?!

10 scary minutes

Last Friday, just about dinner time, we had a freakish thunder-rain-wind-and hail-storm. Several branches came down in our front yard, and a house across the street lost a really big limb from one of their pecan trees. Neighbors elsewhere in our area were hit much harder, with whole trees downed. We ended up being lucky with our power outage, too—ours came back on around 3:30 the next morning (after being out for 9 hours). Some folks had to wait much longer.

I happened to be looking out our front window when a couple of our cedar elm branches came down. Probably not the best place to be standing, but I was transfixed by the display.

In addition to the swirling winds that brought down the branches, there was heavy rain. Our street often turns into an impressive river when it rains, but the downed vegetation was an addition this time...

...and of course there was hail, larger than I'd seen in some time, probably about nickel- to quarter-sized...

Here's what our driveway looked like after the hail stopped. Those leaves came down with the hail, I imagine...

The crazy thing is that all this fury was over in 10 minutes, max. Then, as you can see above, the sun even came out!

So it was easy for all the neighborhood to come out and observe the damage (none terribly severe on our street), help each other pick up and clear brush and branches, and just generally have the kind of "block party" we don't usually have the time or inclination for. When everyone's A/C is out though, it makes sense to congregate outside, and that was a pleasant by-product of our blessedly brief demonstration of nature's fury.

Wordless Wednesday: a great spring for fungi

A bloomin' spring

We're in the midst of a bumper crop of spring biota. Just ask my sinuses! Since unfortunately the trade-off for gorgeous fields like the one above is sky-high pollen counts. But for the most part, it's worth it.

The panorama above is in the field across the street from a school where I volunteer, and it's a great example of the lovely masses of bluebonnets that are showing off all over this part of the state. Here's a closeup:

But of course the state flower isn't the only species running amok as a result of our wet winter and early spring. Here's a sampling of some other lovelies I've spotted on various walks and other outings...

huisache near Central Market

short-lived but gorgeous redbuds

profuse Lady Banks roses in my neighborhood

another neighborhood favorite: a bottlebrush plant just a few blocks from my house

not sure what these are called, but aren't they gorgeous?

Heck, the growing stuff doesn't even have to have blooms to be a lovely sight in spring. Here's a mossy fountain on the grounds of the Episcopal Diocese, near Central Market and a lovely park-like setting in the middle of bustling Alamo Heights...

Yes, walks have been great lately with sights like these, and still-moderate temperatures. I'm trying to enough both as much as possible before they're gone.

Wordless Wednesday: Texas state small mammal sighting