Brian and Shirley Loflin are recognized at the 2011 Symposium in Houston for their book Grasses of the Texas Hill Country. Presenting the award is Ron Loper, president of the society in 2010. Photo by Alan Middleton.

The awards recognize excellence in writing, acts of conservation and public service, as well as lifetime achievement in the field of Texas native plants.

They are presented annually at an Awards Banquet during the Fall Symposium which NPSOT holds every October. This year the banquet will be in Kerrville on October 7.

Last year Brian and Shirley Loflin were recognized for their latest book Grasses of the Texas Hill Country and the Houston Wilderness Society for their book Houston Atlas of Biodiversity.

Native plant grower Pat McNeal was also recognized for his work in propagation and education. The non-profit organization Native Prairie Association of Texas was presented with an award for its work in conservation of prairie remnants through land stewardship, and Boerne educator Bill Ward was recognized posthumously for his lifetime  commitment and service in promoting, conserving and educating about our native flora.

Visit our Awards Page for a description of the various awards and lists of all the previous recipients.

A committee appointed by the State Board and chaired by former President Cynthia Maguire will make the final decision on the award.

Email your nominations to Cynthia Maguire.

Rapistrum rugosum in spring. Photo by Marilyn Sallee

One year I noticed stands of bright yellow pop up here and there – tall airy globes of yellow sparsely scattered in the acreage. The year after that the field was solid yellow; if there were other wildflowers, they were hidden under the onslaught of this one aggressive plant. While the kaleidoscope of Texas wildflowers normally run just a foot or two tall, in two short springs this field was taken over by Giant Mustard growing three to five feet tall and shading out all the native flowers.

It happened that fast, and it is happening all over Texas. Giant Mustard, Bastard Cabbage, Wild Turnip-weed — they are all the alter egos of the bully of the mustard family, Rapistrum rugosum, also known as RARU to the invasive plant hunters from its official USDA designated symbol.

This year has been especially splendid for the wildflowers, with huge stands of bluebonnets lining the roadsides. But in so many locales, the fields of deep blue are edged with tall borders of the airy yellow waist-high hedges of RARU. As the bluebonnets flourish, so do the invasives.

Rosette of Rapistrum rugosum. Photo by Marilyn Sallee

However, the native bluebonnets disappear after their spring show. The RARU drops its seeds and develops a basal mat of dense leaves that out-competes native species and quickly forms a monoculture. With the ground well-mulched by the RARU rosettes, other seeds in the soil have no chance of germinating next year. The RARU wins.

Especially in disturbed soils, along roadways and median strips, the dense mat of basal leaves give way to tall airy stems filled with clusters of yellow four-petal flowers that totally take over. The plants are tall and dense enough to block sightlines across the median of a divided highway and makes pulling off the shoulder of the road dangerous.

Any flower is a good flower?

One of the more unusual RARU sightings I’ve had was at a tree farm. Here the trees rule and workers keep the ground well mowed. But at the end of one row, a short fence protected a three-foot high RARU in full bloom so the workers wouldn’t mow it. I asked why and was told that any pretty flower was welcome and protected. The following spring about a quarter-acre was covered with RARU and their deep taproots taking nutrients not just from the grasses, but even the trees. This year the area all along the tree farm is edged in RARU.

Portrait of the aggressor

Not just common, but prolific, RARU originated in the Mediterranean area and belongs to the mustard family. The old family name of Cruciferae, or “cross-bearing”, came from the four-petal yellow flowers, forming a cross-like shape. Broccoli, cabbage and mustard all have these yellow cross-like flower clusters indicative of the mustard family. RARU is a tough plant with a deep taproot to survive drought. It blooms through spring and summer, and then forms stalked seed capsules containing the tiny brown seeds. The seeds germinate in late fall or early winter and make leafy rosettes that form dense mats to block the sun from reaching any other seeds in the soil. RARU has the median strip or road shoulder to itself.

What you can do

The easiest way to control RARU is simply to keep it mowed to prevent it making seeds. It is an annual plant which only lives one year; stopping the seeds from forming stops next year’s crop. If the stand of RARU has not spread too far, you can also remove the entire plant, including the tap root, to control it. In the late fall or early winter, the rosettes can be sprayed with herbicides. (Always use herbicides only according to directions.) Once the RARU is removed or killed in fall, over-seed with natives. Gaillardia/Indian Blanket is an especially a good choice for over-seeding against RARU.

If left uncontrolled, RARU spreads fast and far. Wherever the ground is disturbed, by new construction or wildfires, drought-stricken fields or parched lawns, road construction or laying new pipes, RARU seeds will take hold and block native grasses or flowers from germinating to fill the void. The same conditions that made the wildflowers such an awesome display this year also favored the RARU. Stop it from flowering this summer and watch for and remove the rosettes in the fall. The fewer RARU invasives we have, the more wildflowers can flourish.

The pond (photo by Liz Soutendijk)

Learning about the plant and animal communities that reside or are native to our land wasn’t something we had planned to do. Originally we sought to purchase wooded acreage in a quiet farming community where we could view wildlife and enjoy nature. Throughout the early years of owning the land, we visited on weekends, making all sorts of plans to improve it and make it more purposeful. For example, we thought of landscaping our long driveway so that it would have the appearance of an arboretum. We thought about adding chemicals to our pond to increase the number of largemouth bass and clear the edge of the pond. The list went on. Like many newly retired ex-city-dwellers (there ought to be an acronym for this) we didn’t know that most of our ideas for the land would destroy rare or sensitive plant communities and would send the wildlife scurrying away to find a better habitat.

I remember the exact moment our plans for the land changed. We were sitting by the pond absorbing the scene before us: the light on the water, the breeze and how it sent ripples across the pond, the songs and calls of birds, the different plants before us – each with a distinct green color, texture, size, and flower. I thought, “This is perfect as it is – the plants, the pond…all of it. Why change it?” I view the change in our attitude toward our land like most people who attend training lessons for their dog.

Don’t laugh; hear me out. During the training they find out it’s not the dog that needs the training. The dog is fine. He is reacting to the owner’s behavior. It is the owner who needs the training. And so it was with us – the land, the plants, the animals, and their habitats only needed us to learn how to exist as part of the community.

Jason identified 81 plant species that day. As he walked through the bog, he identified three species of carnivorous plants: Pink Sundew (Drosera capillaris), Yellow Pitcher Plants (Sarracenia alata), and Bladderwort (Utricularia spp.). At the base of the bog’s west facing slope, acidic water flowed out into the pond as it met the clay. On the upper part of the slope, large oak trees shaded the Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana), Farkleberry (Vaccinium arboreum) and Western Brackenfern (Pteridium aquilinum var. pseudocaudatum). Texas Azalea (Rhododendron oblongifolium), Red Maple (Acer rubrum var. trilobum), American Holly (Ilex opaca var. opaca), Wax Myrtle (Morella cerifera), and Cinnamon Fern (Osmunda cinnamomea), lined the lower areas. Plants within the bog, besides the carnivorous ones, included Yellow-eyed Grass (Xyris spp.), Sugarcane Plumegrass (Saccharum giganteum), Snakemouth Orchid (Pogonia ophioglossoides), Virginia Iris (Iris virginica), Waterspider Bog Orchid (Habenaria repens), Blueflower Eryngo (Eryngium integrifolium), Tenangle Pipewort (Eriocaulon decangulare), and Red Milkweed (Asclepias rubra). All these species and more still grow there.

Less than a mile away Glade Creek begins its journey toward the pond. The creek enters the pond through a large gap in what used to be an active beaver dam. Where the creek enters the land, another broken dam holds back a small wet area. In this soggy area Jason found a grouping of Rough-stem Aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum var. scabricaule), and Swamp Sunflower (Helianthus angustifolius). However, during severe droughts they seem to go dormant as the creek slows to a drizzle. The Rough-stem Aster used to be considered endemic to Wood County and can be found written up in Rare Plants of Texas: A Field Guide (Poole et al. p. 480).

After Jason’s visit, we worked with the Texas Land Conservancy (TLC) and placed the bog and contiguous wetlands in a conservation easement. Over the years many volunteers helped with support and discovery on our land. TLC volunteers cleared wax myrtle and other plants encroaching into the bog. East Texas Master Naturalist volunteers cleared trails to this and other areas on the land. Sonnia Hill, a member of the Tyler Chapter of the Native Plant Society, and other native plant experts explore the bog throughout the year sometimes discovering species that were missed earlier.

Cardinal flower. Click to see a slideshow with more of Bart's work.

Since we first visited this land, Bart photographed flowers to document and help us identify what was here. This was before we even knew what was native or how to identify plants using a key. As our interest in native plants grew, we worked to learn more from our own observations, attending programs, courses, symposiums, and field trips. We became members of the Texas Master Naturalist, Master Gardeners and Native Plant Society. Bart’s interest became more focused on recording the images of native plants and my interest lead to my giving presentations on native plants to Master Gardeners and Garden Clubs.

Bart now uses his skills as an artist taking digital photos for botanical drawings. He drew each of the botanicals shown in this article by combining a series of digital images to show specific features of the plant. This is all done using a computer.

Bart sees his botanical art as a way to preserve what was and what is growing here. Sometimes he misses a plant before it disappears, like the white water lily (we think the beavers ate their roots). The disappearance of plants is especially true for native plants that he finds growing by the roadside. Each year, more of them disappear from the location where he originally found them. Sometimes it’s because a new land owner cleared the fence line using herbicides or another plowed the land.

Wouldn’t it be serendipitous if someone saw one of Bart’s drawings and awakened to the beauty of native plants?

Two of the most important for monarchs are Antelope Horns and Green Milkweed because they are common milkweeds that grow in pastures and along roadsides throughout the central flyway of Texas, the path that most Monarchs take on their migration through Texas.

Antelope Horns, or Asclepias asperula, gets its name from the seed pods that look similar to the horns of an antelope. Its pale, greenish-yellow flowers, tinged maroon, are crowded in round, terminal clusters 3Ð4 inches across at the end of the flower stem. It spreads along the ground and attains 8 to 24 inches in height.

Green Milkweed, or Asclepias viridis, is the most common milkweed in Texas, ranging from deep East Texas to the Edwards Plateau. It typically has wider leaves than Asclepias asperula. The leaf margins are often wavy. Flowers are white and in an umbel, mostly one per plant. Close inspection shows that some rose or purple color is evident in the center of each individual flower. It is sometimes called Green Antelope Horns.

Butterfly Weed, or Asclepias tuberosa, is probably the native milkweed that is most commonly grown by gardeners. It is prized for its large, flat-topped clusters of bright-orange flowers. The flower clusters, 2Ð5 inches across, are at the top of the flowering stem. The abundance of stiff, lance-shaped foliage provides a dark green backdrop for the showy flower heads.

Butterfly weed is available in nurseries and can be grown from seed. It actually has no milky sap, despite being considered a milkweed. Flowers do not usually appear until the plant is well-established.

Another name for it is Pleurisy Root. It has been reported that this milkweed was boiled and eaten as greens and the roots used as a medicine by Indians.

Whorled Milkweed (Asclepias verticillata) is one of the more toxic milkweeds. The leaves grow in a whorl around the stem, hence the common name. Another name is Horsetail Milkweed. Its narrow leaves and stems cause it to blend in with grasses when it is not in bloom.

Texas Milkweed (Asclepias texana) is one of the more attractive native milkweeds, perhaps deserving of cultivation. It has slender stems up to 18 inches in height, with narrow elliptic leaves, becoming shrubby with age and found along the canyons of the Edwards Plateau.

Carroll Abbott described it as “covered with tiny snowballs from May to August.”

Swamp Milkweed or Pink Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) grows in wet soils at the edge of streams and ponds. It is one of the largest milkweeds, sometimes as much as five feet tall, with shallow roots. Flowers are rose-colored to light purple.

All plants in the genus Asclepias are probably somewhat toxic, some fatally so, to both humans and animals. The sap of some causes skin irritation in humans. Sensitivity to a toxin varies with a person’s age, weight, physical condition, and individual susceptibility. Children are most vulnerable because of their curiosity and small size.

All photos by Bill Lindemann.

The January sun has warmed the afternoon air and a pair of Monarch butterflies flutter by, pausing for nectar on late blooming lantana and a few remaining milkweed flowers. Less visible to the casual observer are other river residents: dozens of Monarch caterpillars in various stages of development nosh on milkweed leaves, fueling up to form their chrysalises.

Monarch on tropical milkweed (photo by Monika Maeckle)

For residents who only have to reach back several years to remember riverbanks overgrown with weeds, strewn with trash, and home to vagrants, the transformation of the river’s Museum Reach is nothing less than a miracle. And by all accounts, this particular milkweed patch seems to embody that successful transformation, a butterfly habitat that attracts the attention of passersby and butterfly researchers, right in the heart of the city.

For some scientists, however, the San Antonio milkweed patch spells trouble. The milkweed responsible for this butterfly bounty is the nonnative Asclepias curassavica, commonly known as Tropical Milkweed.

Affordable, widely available, and easy-to-grow, Tropical Milkweed sports gorgeous orange and yellow blooms, reaches two-three feet in height and serves as a magnet for Monarchs and other butterflies. It resembles the native Asclepias tuberosa, known as Butterflyweed. In all likelihood, Tropical Milkweed is the very plant on which the storied Monarch butterfly evolved—and it vexes and divides scientists who study Monarch butterflies.

“I would limit Tropical Milkweed to being an inside demonstration project, growing the plants in an enclosed area totally inaccessible to wild monarchs,” says Monarch butterfly expert Dr. Lincoln Brower, who has studied the insects for more than five decades.

Dr. Brower and other scientists worry about undesirable colonies of OE, the unpronounceable Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, a protozoan disease that infects Monarchs and other milkweed feeders. Dr. Brower hypothesizes that resident OE-infested Monarchs will breed with migrating populations, jeopardizing the migration. He is the first to admit, however, that his theory is built on informed speculation since a conclusive study has never been published.

OE is transferred by the butterflies themselves when they nectar and lay eggs on plants, leaving spores behind. It seems to especially flourish on Tropical Milkweed in southern climates late in the year. In colder regions and the wild, milkweeds die off in the winter, apparently purging OE to a large degree or sending it into dormancy.

Tropical milkweed (photo by Monika Maeckle)

Just as worrisome, the presence of year-round milkweed appears to knock Monarch butterflies out of their diapause, a state in which they don’t reproduce, but conserve their energy for migrating. “The population-level impacts of this remain unknown,” says Dr. Karen Oberhauser, a conservation biologist at the University of Minnesota who oversees Monarch Lab, an education outreach program that brings Monarch butterflies into the classroom. Oberhauser concedes, though, that “even though we haven’t proven that Tropical Milkweed could lead to harm, we haven’t proven that it won’t.”

Butterfly breeders and enthusiasts liken OE to staphylococcus–always present but causing widespread affliction only under stressed conditions. Some believe OE is simply a part of the evolutionary cycle, killing those butterflies less fit than others.

“If it were as deadly as many people imply, there wouldn’t be an OE issue,” suggests Edith Smith, of Shady Oak Butterfly Farm in Brooker, Florida. Smith has raised hundreds of thousands of OE-free Monarchs for education, celebration, and research purposes. Smith and others posit that OE is just one more Darwinian check that nature employs to keep the Monarch population balanced.

Another troubling aspect to Tropical Milkweed is a sometime tendency to be invasive when not properly managed. All milkweeds are gregariously opportunistic, with the milkweed “fluff” carrying their seeds far and wide, seeking welcoming conditions for germination.

“I’m a little cautious about it,” says Andrea DeLong-Amaya, Director of Horticulture at Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin. “I don’t know if it will stay well behaved. Especially if our climate continues to stay warm.”

Not all scientists consider Tropical Milkweed a threat to the Monarch butterfly migration, however.

“Lots of opinions, but very little data,” says Dr. Chip Taylor, founder of Monarch Watch, a citizen scientist program based at the University of Kansas at Lawrence devoted to the study of Monarch butterflies. “In the grand scheme of all things Monarch, this is a trivial issue. We are losing more habitat per day than can possibly be replaced by gardeners everywhere planting Asclepias curassavica,” says Dr. Taylor.

Monarch Watch estimates that 2.2 million acres of potential milkweed habitat are lost each year because of development, genetically modified and herbicide tolerant crops, and pesticide use. The organization also launched a “Bring Back the Monarchs” native milkweed restoration campaign 2010.

photo by Monika Maeckle

Texas has been dubbed “the funnel” of the Monarch migration since the creatures must pass through the Lone Star State coming and going to their migratory roosts in the forested mountains of Michoacán state in Mexico. Dr. Taylor has even called Texas the migration’s “most important state.”

“If there’s no milkweed in Texas, the Monarch population won’t grow,” he says, adding that as temperatures rise over the next 30 yrs and other milkweed species continue their decline, Tropical Milkweed will become naturalized in parts of Texas and “may assume a larger role in supporting the US monarch population.” Recent USDA revisions to plant hardiness maps, which moved many cities to warmer zones, seem to reinforce his notion.

For Texas gardeners aiming to support the butterfly population, we have little choice when it comes to buying milkweed plants. On the rare occasions that native milkweed seedlings are available—at plant sales and specialty nurseries—transplanting often results in failure. To further complicate matters, Tropical Milkweeds are often identified as natives.

“It’s frequently mislabeled,” says Kip Kiphart, a volunteer and trainer at the Cibolo Nature Center’s Monarch Larvae Monitoring project in Boerne. “I see it all the time,” he says, adding that sellers are likely misinformed or don’t care.

Even when available, native milkweeds are notoriously persnickety to cultivate. George Cates, “seed cleaner extraordinaire” at the highly regarded native milkweed supplier Native American Seed Company in the Hill Country town of Junction, explains: “Native milkweeds simply don’t do well in containers. They require a very specific set of conditions and have an extremely long tap route, making containerization untenable.”

Planting milkweed from seed can also be complicated, requiring stratification, moist conditions for 45 days, specific soil conditions, and alternate dry and wet periods.

The cost and challenges of commercial milkweed production combined with consumers’ penchant for bold color and easy care make a difficult case for nurseries to invest in native milkweeds, says David Rodriguez, Bexar County Agent for Texas Agrilife Extension.

“Consumers want the ‘wow’ factor, they want pretty, pretty,” says Rodriguez. “The demand for native milkweeds just isn’t there.”

photo by Monika Maeckle

Milkweed and Monarch evangelists at the Monarch Joint Venture and some specialty growers are working to make native milkweed seeds and plants more available. But until growers recognize a market for native milkweeds and perfect its commercial production, the only practical option for Texas gardeners is Tropical Milkweed.

Even ecosystem specialists such as Dr. Mark Simmons of the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center view Tropical Milkweed with pragmatism.

“Take it out of the context of plants, and just consider it butterfly food,” says Dr. Simmons. “I grow potatoes in my garden and they’re not native. But they fill a need.”

Over the next few weeks, Monarch butterflies will travel through Texas. Females will lay their eggs on whatever milkweeds they can find. Caterpillars will hatch into their signature black, white, and yellow- striped skins, consuming 200x their weight in milkweed leaves before forming a chrysalis.

In the Hill Country they’ll eat Antelope horns. Along rivers and streams, they’ll consume Swamp milkweed. And elsewhere in Texas, Common, Green, Butterflyweed, Zizotes and other milkweeds will sustain them.

In most Texas butterfly gardens, however, the milkweed buffet will consist of nonnative Tropical Milkweed.

The “they” that I am referring to are monarch butterflies. An authoritative reporter in Bergheim has seen a monarch and found 27 eggs on the Antelope horns (Asclepias asperula) in a monitored patch. And Kip found monarch eggs on Hierba de Zizotes (Asclepias oenotheroides) another milkweed species that grows near his house.

Of course a reasonable question is if the monarchs are back, where have they been. And the answer is that they spent the winter at their resort in Mexico, having made a long journey south from northern states or even from southern Canada last fall. But time is short, because the ones that are returning now don’t have much longer to live. The females will have to find the right kind of host plants and lay eggs before they die, having already lived much longer than most species of butterflies. To find out more about the amazing life cycle of the monarch go to an informative website: www.monarchwatch.org.

For those following the comings and goings of the monarchs there have been ample reasons for concern in recent years. Experts have anxiously watched the destruction of monarch wintering grounds in Mexico, the loss of summer habitat from development, herbicides and farming and the use of systemic pesticides on garden plants. These factors together have contributed to an inevitable decline in numbers.

The devastating drought in Texas has only added to that concern, because Texas is positioned at a critical location on the migratory routes in both the fall and in the spring. Insufficient nectar plants in Texas in the fall for the migrating adults heading to Mexico or insufficient host plants in Texas in the spring upon which the returning females will deposit their eggs might tip the scales against the continued existence of this magnificent insect.

Rather than just watch a bad situation get worse, Chip Taylor, the Director of Monarch Watch has tried to respond with a nationwide restoration landscape program called “Bring Back The Monarchs.” The stated goals of the program are “to restore 20 milkweed species, used by monarch caterpillars as food, to their native ranges throughout the United States and to encourage the planting of nectar-producing native flowers that support adult monarchs and other pollinators.” For more information on this restoration project and the varieties of milkweed included check out the website: monarchwatch.org/bring-back-the-monarchs/.

Hierba de Zizotes (photo by Delmar Cain)

Some of the folks in our area are responding to the call. Kip Kiphart and Mary Kennedy were instrumental in marking off a monarch survey station at the Cibolo Nature Center, where trained volunteer monitors periodically count the milkweed plants and carefully look for the tiny pearl-like monarch eggs. In our area of Texas two of the more preferred native milkweeds, which the monarchs use as host plants, are antelope horns (Asclepias asperula) and Hierba de Zizotes (Asclepias oenotheroides). Residential development, right of way mowing and incompatible farm and ranching operations have had an affect on the numbers of these milkweed plants.

Last fall in a program called Milkweed for Monarchs Kip encouraged members of the Boerne Chapter of NPSOT to collect seeds from both antelope horns and from Hierba de Zizotes. The collected seeds were sent to an Austin grower, who has now made hundreds of small plants available from the germinated seeds.

For the past several years at the CNC-sponsored Mostly Native Plant Sale, Kip has provided a butterfly demonstration garden, which included some of the better nectar plants in our area to attract butterflies, including monarchs. This year in addition to showing you beautiful nectar plants he will be selling the native host plants.

So on April 7th, look for the butterfly demonstration garden at Cibolo Nature Center to find out which nectar plants attract monarchs and other butterflies. Many of those plants will be available and for sale at the NPSOT booth. But you can really help if you purchase milkweed plants and plant them in your own yard or garden. Look for Kip’s booth where antelope horns and perhaps Hierba de Zizotes will be for sale.

Then next year you too can join the group that is excited about hearing that “they” are back.

The consortium workers learn how to make seed balls
so they can, in turn, go out and teach others how to do it.
(photo by Meredith O'Reilly)

Austin Chapter member Ryan Fleming and Williamson County Chapter member Sue Wiseman initiated the “Healing Hands Healing Lands” project because they saw the urgency to restore the area as rapidly as possible to avoid further destruction of the unique regional flora and fauna. Their idea was to aid and accelerate healing of the natural ecosystems by providing seed balls containing native flower, grass and other plant seeds normally found in the affected areas.

Members of the Williamson County, Austin, Lost Pines and other chapters of NPSOT joined with Master Naturalists and Master Gardeners, garden club members, hundreds of school children, and many other sponsors and participants to offer hands to help heal the wounded lands.

In October a group of 14 volunteers assembled approximately 450 seed ball kits from a ton of dry red art clay purchased from Armadillo Clay in Austin, a half yard of organic compost donated by GeoGrowers in Austin and Olde Thyme Gardens in Circleville, and 25 pounds of native seed mix selected by and purchased from Bill Neiman of Native American Seed in Junction. Extensive discussions were held with authorities in the Bastrop area to ensure that the seed for the kits would be genetically compatible with the sensitive native environment. Funds to pay for the materials were provided through private donations.

Dennis Perz teaches seed ball making at a
Boys and Girls Club. (photo by Marilyn Perz)

During November and December roughly 300 youth groups with upwards of 1000 participants rolled seed balls from the materials in the kits. These sessions were accompanied by educational discussions led by adult volunteers describing the fire in Bastrop, the consequent damage to the vegetation and the threat to the long term health of the local ecosystem. The volunteers emphasized the importance of selecting native seed varieties appropriate for revegetating the land and conforming to the natural ecosystem of the area.

Kathy Galloway and Sue Wiseman stand with the pallet of seed balls (photo by Kathy Comer)

Leftover seed ball kits have been given to the Lost Pines Master Naturalists for distribution to groups within the Bastrop area that want to participate. Remaining funds in the Healing Hands Healing Lands account will be donated to the TPWD Relief Fund.

Sue said that one of the recipients, a fellow Master Naturalist, told her that the group was considered angels. “The gift of seed balls to folks who moved into the Lost Pines area because they appreciated nature has been very special. It really hit home that someone would want to give someone else a little something to help in healing nature.”

The Bastrop County fire may have been a single tug on nature, but it has evoked a response from many in the rest of the world. NPSOT can be proud that its members have played a leading role in the Healing Hands, Healing Lands project. This experience can be a model for further cooperative work by the many organizations that took part.

More information on the project is available at http://www.HealingHandsHealingLands.org.

Prunus mexicana (photo by Bill Lindemann)

The highly fragrant blossoms appear in the late winter, before the leaves, and attract hordes of butterflies and bees.

The tree often grows solitary in clearings and woodland edges in the eastern two-thirds of the state. It tolerates dappled shade as well as full sun. Despite the name it is said to actually be more common in Texas than in Mexico.

It gets as tall as 25 feet and is fast-growing, as well as being attractive, making it a good tree for landscaping.

The bloom coincides with that of the redbud and the two trees look spectacular when planted together.

Mexican plum bears fruit which is rather tart. Another native plum tree known more for its fruit rather than for ornamental value is the Chickasaw plum, Prunus angustifolia, which is much tastier but tends to sucker and only gets 12 – 15 feet tall.

First, through human eyes, it was the worst and most extreme… so far. Speaking at the Wichita Falls water conference in October, 2011, KFDX Meteorologist Bryan Rupp explained that the precipitating cause, La Niña in the Pacific, is already in place again for next summer, and may extend a year or more after that. In general, the climate trend shows all areas of Texas receiving less rainfall than the historic average. So brace yourself. Whatever your area’s annual rainfall average is, it will probably be much less in the near future. Time to learn how to conserve water, live with the heat and landscape for drought.

Plant survival skills

Most people are aware of the way some plants will droop or fold their leaves in the heat of the day to conserve moisture. When that trick isn’t enough, some plants actually drop their leaves and look dead, but they are just holding onto the moisture in their roots. Those black, leafless stems or even bare-branched shrubs and trees are just doing what they need to survive. Many will come back from the roots once the cooler temperatures and moisture return in the fall. Do not rip out a plant just because the top looks dead. Watch for new growth around the base of the plant this fall or next spring. They have been very stressed and will need extra care, but many may come back just fine.

Conversely, many short-lived perennials survive the extreme conditions by giving up, and putting their all into seed production. Some of those amazing bloom displays in the heat were the plant making sure its seeds had a good chance. It put all its life-energy into making flowers and seeds. It may look great, but that is its final hurrah. Save those seeds to make new plants if the parents don’t leaf out in the spring.

Bluebonnets in gravel (photo by Bill Hopkins).

Some native seeds actually rely on the extreme conditions to germinate their seeds. You may know that some seeds need special harsh treatment to sprout. The heat and sun pounding them all summer is another way to scarify or acid-etch to penetrate thick seed-coats or crack tough shells. From Buckeyes to Bluebonnets, watch for those slow-geminating seeds to put out new life this spring.

And then there are the true Texas-tough plants that actually do well in those extreme conditions. Many native plants, especially those from the western part of the state, saw the heat and drought as business as usual. They evolved to thrive in the extremes and have been tested through past drought cycles. Many of these plants actually preferred the drier soils and harsh conditions. These are the plants that do not do well in amended garden beds with regular watering – they can’t take being treated nicely. They not only survive the heat, they actually thrive in it.

Texas is a big state with too many ecosystems to make a comprehensive, state-wide list, much less publish it here. Plants that do well in salt-marshes of Galveston may not handle the alkaline desert soils of El Paso or the acid and moisture of the Pineywoods. But you can collect the data you need for your area, create your own list of plants and share it with others in your local chapters. These are the plants we will be watching for as the best drought and heat tolerant landscape plants as the drought continues.

It’s time now to start your own list of what survived and thrived in your area, and keep collecting the data through next spring, and even next year. Then share it with your local chapter. This extreme summer gave us a great opportunity to learn about the extreme survivors in our local region and make better choices for the future.