Season's First Crocus

Those are mighty small crocuses, compared to a US two-bit piece. However, the bulbs have been in the ground here for maybe 10-15 years. And it isn't what one would call nourishing soil; no, that is decayed granite, maybe 6-8 inches thick atop a granite base. At least the javelina haven't found that particular set of bulbs. Yet.

At first I thought that the flowers pictured at the top of the page were my first of the season -- but this little clump preceded them by a few days.

But it's the season when all the bulbs that have survived begin to push green leaves up to catch the sun. Here, daffodils.

The iris, too, is making an appearance.

My overgrown miniature yellow rose is greening up.

And something that emerges from a bulb is coming up next to my hardy, evergreen barbatus penstemon; I think it may be one of the pretty little wild tulips. All I can say is WHEE! Spring again. That's the good news.

Now the not-so-good. It's time to start thinking fence. Because, no matter how much I enjoy wildlife, the situation changes when a troupe of javelina declares a section of the yard to be its very own outhouse. The spot is beginning to stink! Right next to my neighbor's yard, of course. I have a problem, folks!

Things That Go Bump...

...in the night! So there I was, late last night, working away at my previous post. And I heard loud thumping
& bumping. The Max cat was outside. Had he captured the neighborhood skunk? Had a wandering coyote tried to grab the precious Max cat?

Opening the door, I shouted for Max -- and heard heavy clumping footsteps making time uphill. Plus the telltale "huff huff". One of the local pack of pigs.

Excuse me, javelina. Got to keep the species straight.

It happens that, tho I live less than a mile from the Courthouse, my house is apparently located on an old javelina trail. The pack shows up every so often, looking for goodies.

These include the staples: grape hyacinths, the roots of any wild white evening primrose that I have managed to tame, and a handful of surviving tulip bulbs left over from more optimistic gardening days. Dessert? Try pansy blossoms, for starters. And, occasionally, the roots of a red California poppy I've been nursing along.

Last night, the beasts had found out my secret: that I had transferred most of my hyacinths to pots, in the belief that the pigs sniffed the ground out first. Worked for several years. But I've been found out. I'll have to work up a new strategy!

Like the little electric fence a tulip-loving, tulip-planting neighbor installed when I first mentioned the pig problem. It worked for a long time, even after he had planted literally hundreds of bulbs a couple of years ago. Unfortunately, early this spring, after the blossoms had opened, the javelina discovered that the fence was in disarray.

That was one Tulip Massacree!!!

But then I have another friend who loves wildlife. As you can see, below. Great picture, but I'm glad it wasn't taken here.