We've been hearing a bird in our shrubbery for the past couple of months, but haven't been able to identify it.
The bird has a distinctive song that starts out with a couple of higher notes and then resolves into a lower trill. After hearing this song for some time, we finally spotted a small grayish bird that seemed to be the one singing this song, but never got a really good look at it, let alone a picture of it.
The best description we could come up with was: small, about the size of a sparrow, grayish or brownish color, a bit darker on the back than on the chest and with an upturned tail. Since the bird was usually hopping around in the neighbors' trumpet creeper vine, that was about the best description we could come up with.
I tried searching all the likely members of the Passeriformes order on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology All About Birds website, including sparrows, wrens and bushtits, but nothing seemed even close to the song we were hearing, until I got to the last bird on the list, the Wrentit. That's the song, and the description fits: small songbird, dull grayish brown, long tail, short bill, and "difficult to see as it skulks through the dense scrub."
Yep, that's our bird.
We live in San Diego, a Mediterranean type climate with the Pacific Ocean to the west, mountains and desert to the east and about 10 inches of rainfall per year. Water is a scarce resource in this environment and gardening here must always be conscious of that fact of life.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Crimes Against Horticulture
One of my favorite gardening sites is Billy Goodnick's Crimes Against Horticulture: When Bad Taste Meets Power Tools page on Facebook, where Billy highlights some of the amazingly bad decisions people make in their gardens. I think my favorite is photo of what appears to be an otherwise blameless Italian Cypress pruned into an unfortunate shape that looks like stacked up wineglasses. https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=651314434904092&set=pb.183426311692909.-2207520000.1395618579.&type=3&theater
We were fortunate yesterday to be able to attend one of Billy's lectures during the San Diego Master Gardeners Spring seminar, and it was as entertaining as it was informative.
And I won a roll of Billy's yellow Horticultural Crime Scene tape, so watch out, neighbors. Next time you prune those trees inappropriately, you're getting taped!
We were fortunate yesterday to be able to attend one of Billy's lectures during the San Diego Master Gardeners Spring seminar, and it was as entertaining as it was informative.
And I won a roll of Billy's yellow Horticultural Crime Scene tape, so watch out, neighbors. Next time you prune those trees inappropriately, you're getting taped!
Friday, March 21, 2014
You've Got ... Borage!
Borage |
So, here it is. Again.
And now it's blooming, too, which means even more Borage next year.
The flowers are supposed to be good in tea, but I haven't worked up the nerve to try any in my morning tea yet.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
End of An Era
Cindy's dad, Louis Dehmlow, grew up on a dairy farm in Illinois and remained a passionate gardener the rest of his life. It seemed like he could make anything grow. We lost him at the end of February, a week short of his 90th birthday. Indiana was still covered with snow and tomatoes were only a distant dream of summer.
Lou was very proud of his flourishing upside down tomato plant a few years ago, especially when he heard that Master Gardener Cindy's upside down tomato was a scrawny specimen that managed to produce only one (1) tomato the entire summer.
He never let her hear the end of that one, but he took great delight in helping her install a drip irrigation system for his roses when his back problems prevented him from hand carrying water to them during Indiana's drought; it turned out that all the bits and pieces of a drip system was almost like a tinker toy set for an engineer like Lou.
He was an inventive, funny, wonderful man who cared deeply about his family and his garden, and we will all miss him greatly.
Lou was very proud of his flourishing upside down tomato plant a few years ago, especially when he heard that Master Gardener Cindy's upside down tomato was a scrawny specimen that managed to produce only one (1) tomato the entire summer.
He never let her hear the end of that one, but he took great delight in helping her install a drip irrigation system for his roses when his back problems prevented him from hand carrying water to them during Indiana's drought; it turned out that all the bits and pieces of a drip system was almost like a tinker toy set for an engineer like Lou.
He was an inventive, funny, wonderful man who cared deeply about his family and his garden, and we will all miss him greatly.
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