Bluebirds prefer to live in trees next to open fields. They perch and nest in the trees, and search for insects in the grass nearby. You can find Eastern and Western Bluebirds in orchards or forests next to meadows, farm fields, or grasslands.

Preferring cooler summers, Mountain Bluebirds live in grasslands and sagebrush next to forests of conifers, aspen, scrub oak and mountain mahogany. They are found in the Rocky Mountains from Colorado and Utah all the way to Alaska.

These bluebirds don’t mind disturbed habitats, and will move into areas that were recently logged or burned. Thus, their populations are increasing in the Pacific Northwest, where much logging occurs. (Other bird species that prefer old forests are decreasing for the same reason.)

Bluebirds do not eat seeds. They mostly eat insects (especially caterpillars, grasshoppers, beetles and bugs) and spiders. They will eat berries, too. From late summer to early spring, insects are hard to find. Western and Mountain Bluebirds eat juniper and mistletoe berries during the winter. The birds are important to these plants because they spread seeds to new places. Where the birds spend the winter is determined by the location and abundance of these fruits (especially juniper berries).

Often bluebirds find their bugs on the leaves of bushes and trees. Frequently they will sit on a low perch, such as a fence post, from which they swoop down on their prey. They briefly land on the ground to grab it in their beak before returning to their perch. This behavior is called ground-sallying. If no perch is available, Mountain Bluebirds are able to hover in midair, searching the ground for prey or nabbing flying insects.

As a good host or hostess, you can encourage insects in your garden. Don’t use toxic pesticides. Be willing to put up with a few chewed leaves. Many bluebird aficionados even purchase meal worms to offer their guests.

Remember that berries also make up part of the birds’ diet, especially in winter. Consider including a few junipers in your landscaping (make sure the plants are berry-producing females).

Water attracts all kinds of wildlife, and bluebirds are no exception. A shallow birdbath with a rough-textured surface for firm footing will be appreciated year-round. Running water is even better, if you can manage it. The sound will attract birds that might miss a quiet pool.

Perhaps the most useful thing we humans can do for bluebirds is to provide some nesting boxes. While they do not excavate their own cavities, bluebirds eagerly take advantage of abandoned woodpecker holes. If you don’t happen to have any dead trees in your yard, you can put up a nest box or two. Make sure they’re properly constructed for the species of bluebirds you have locally.

Then situate it properly. While most of us don’t live in orchards, forests, or meadows, we can remember to nail the box onto a fence post or tree trunk facing the lawn. Perhaps the birds won’t be too choosy.

Next week, I’ll talk more about nesting boxes, and why bluebirds, in particular, benefit from their use.

For more information: Cornell Lab of Ornithology, North American Bluebird Society, Sialis

My focus changed because of the town of Karval. With Pikes Peak barely visible on the horizon, this tiny town in Lincoln County, an hour east of Colorado Springs, doesn’t fit the typical person’s image of a vacation destination. Yet, I had a wonderful time there.

You have to have a reason to search out Karval. In my case, I was eager to attend their Mountain Plover Festival, held yearly at the end of April.

The featured stars of the festival, Mountain Plovers are ground-nesting birds of the short-grass prairies. Avid birders like me must go to the high plains if we want to see this uncommon species. However, most of the birds are off limits, on private land. Realizing they could offer a rare opportunity to bird watchers, and at the same time invigorate the local economy, Karval’s ranchers began the festival in 2007.

The town extended a warm welcome to us visitors. It was still early when we piled into the school bus for the trip to the first ranch. I chatted with the driver as we bumped along the dirt roads. Arriving at the ranch gate, we transferred to a truck-drawn flat-bed trailer piled with straw bales—a ranch-style hayride. Saved from having to hike, we could scan for birds while covering a lot of territory. Our guides made sure we saw plenty of wildlife, including a number of Mountain Plovers. I particularly enjoyed the Burrowing Owls standing guard among the prairie dogs.

Talk about hospitality—every possible need was provided for. They wrapped us in blankets and old sleeping bags to help block the cool April wind. Bottled water and high-energy snacks kept us going. We certainly appreciated the pick-up truck that followed the school bus, towing a pair of “outdoor portable toilets”.

Various Karval community groups took turns preparing delicious homemade meals. After seeing the same faces every time, I quickly realized that while the organization names might vary, there were only so many people to go around, and apparently everyone in town belonged to every group!

I learned fascinating facts about the short-grass prairie ecosystem from some biologists doing research in the area. But what truly captured my imagination were the stories that third-generation landowners told about the joys and challenges of the ranching life.

Later that evening the entire town gathered ’round a campfire for home-grown barbecued beef and prize-winning cowboy poetry. Looking up at the brilliant stars, I realized I will always treasure my weekend in Karval.

This article originally appeared in AAA Colorado’s Encompass Magazine, April 2009.

Why do they arrive here so early in the year? Maybe it’s because they don’t travel very far for the winter. While other kinds of thrushes migrate to central America, bluebirds tend to stick closer to home.

Bluebirds living in the southern parts of the United States stay there year-round. Western Bluebirds from harsher climates winter along the Pacific coast or in the dry scrubland of the Southwest and Mexico. A few stay in Colorado.

Eastern Bluebirds spend the winter in the Southeast and along the Gulf of Mexico. Mountain Bluebirds in Alaska, Canada and the northern United States head for warmer areas, ranging from Utah, Colorado and western Kansas and Texas southward through Mexico. During migration, they are common along the Front Range.

Male bluebirds, like other thrushes, return to their summer range ahead of the females, so they can lay claim to a breeding territory. This area may be less than an acre to six acres or more, depending on how much food is found there. They will not take more space than they need, as it wastes their energy defending habitat they don’t use.

Male birds sing in the spring to advise other males that they will defend their territory. They aggressively drive away other males by prancing around, flicking their tail and wings, raising their crown feathers, and opening their beaks wide. This display is enough to convince the rival to leave, and actual fighting is usually avoided. Female birds do not establish territories, so they do not sing.

Once the male is established, he chooses a cavity in a tree as a potential nest site. It will be right in the middle of his territory. Bluebirds don’t make their own holes. They use ones that occur naturally, or that were made by woodpeckers. In a pinch, they will nest in the space between two large rocks.

When the females arrive, the male’s job is to convince a possible mate that his nest site is acceptable. He will fly in and out as if to say, “Hey, look at the great home I picked out for us!” Eventually a female will go inside and try it out. If she approves, she will be his mate for the entire season. (Next year, the male has to go through the whole process all over again!)

The female builds the nest and lays from five to eight eggs in it. Once they are all laid, she sits on them for approximately thirteen days until they hatch. She may briefly step out for a bite to eat, or her mate may bring her food.

At first, the fledglings are completely helpless. The female bird must keep them warm and fed. The male helps by delivering the food. They young birds eat so much that they double or triple their weight in the first week! The nest stays clean because the birds’ droppings come in a sac that the parents can carry away. After two weeks, the young have grown most of their feathers. Then they can learn to fly. They leave the nest during the third week.

A bluebird pair will usually raise two families per year. As soon as the first family is out of the nest, eggs are laid for the second family. After all the birds have fledged (have feathers and can fly), both families join together in one flock. They will stay together for the rest of the season, until they migrate. The male bluebird will guard his mate to keep other males away. They will both defend their nest from any threat. Nesting in a cavity helps keep the family safe from predators.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be posting more information on bluebirds, and how you can welcome them into your yard.

Lenten Roses are a welcome sight after a long, lifeless winter. Hardy between USDA zones 4 – 8, they are among the earliest flowers to bloom., emerging from clumps of attractive, evergreen foliage about two feet high and 15 inches across.

The colorful sepals come in shades of green-white, through mauve pink and plum to a deep wine red. Some newer hybrids add a pale yellow to the mix. (The inconspicuous petals act as nectaries, luring bees with their sweet nectar.) Blooms come in single or double forms. Recently, breeders have developed cultivars with an open, anemone-type flower.

Originally native to Eurasia, all Hellebores are dangerously poisonous. From their roots, ancient cultures created medicines used to treat paralysis, gout, and especially insanity. It was frequently used as a purgative. Historians believe an overdose of Hellebore may have killed Alexander the Great. As some people are sensitive to the sap, it’s a good idea to wear gloves when tending your plants.

Cultivation

Lenten Roses are relatively easy to grow, provided their needs are met. It’s particularly important to plant them in the right location. Pick a spot with light to medium shade and regular watering. They aren’t particular about pH, but soggy soil will kill them. Improve the soil with two to three inches of organic matter, such as compost or decomposed leaves. Then set your transplants to that there is an inch of soil over the root/stem union. Finally, cover the soil with several inches of organic mulch.

The plants grow an extensive root system. While deep roots help in times of drought, twice a week watering is recommended. Unlike many perennials, hellebores do not need dividing, preferring to remain in place for years at a time.

Commercial growers recommend removing all the previous years’ foliage before new growth emerges in spring, to avoid transmitting fungal diseases. This is less of an issue in Colorado’s dry weather. If you see black spot on the leaves, pick them off and dispose of them in the trash.

Obtain new plants from seeds or root divisions. Note that the offspring of hybrid seedlings will not necessarily resemble their parents.

Landscape use

Since they prefer damp soil, it makes sense to plant Lenten Roses in the front of a shady border, perhaps next to a lawn which receives regular irrigation. They do well under deciduous trees or between shrubs. Companion plants might include Coral Bells (Heuchera), hostas, and early spring bulbs.

Bleeding Heart seeds need pre-chilling.

Are you itching to get started on your spring garden?

Regardless of the prognostication of groundhogs, those of us living in the high country can expect far more than six additional weeks of winter. It’s only the end of February, and we can get snow through May and even into June. Yet, reports of crocuses and rhododendrons from other parts of the country waken in us hope that there must be something we can be doing now.

If you placed your seed order last month, odds are you’ve received your seeds. You’re desperate to plant some, but you know it’s way too early. Overgrown, leggy seedlings are failures in the garden.

Well, you’re in luck. You can—you should—get started on some of those seeds.

The seeds of many plants want to make sure it’s spring before they germinate. They determine that winter has past by keeping track of their exposure to cold temperatures. Therefore, the gardener hoping to germinate these seeds must simulate winter conditions. This is done by a technique called “stratification”—chilling the seeds for several months outdoors or in the refrigerator or freezer.

Additionally, some seeds (such as lettuce and delphiniums), which normally germinate easily, become dormant when subjected to temperatures over 75°F. Stratification will break this induced dormancy and allow the seeds to germinate.

To stratify seeds, first plant them in containers according to the directions for starting seeds indoors [see my posts from March and April, 2009]. Place the containers in a plastic bag and put them in the refrigerator or freezer for 4 – 12 weeks. If you live in a cold winter area, you can also seed flats, cover them to prevent drying, and set them outside in a shady exposure.

Just some examples of seeds preferring or needing a cold treatment include Aconite, bells of Ireland, bleeding heart, columbine, cotoneaster, daylily, euonymus, gas plant, hellebore, hickory, holly, juniper, lavender, Lathyrus spp., lupines, Meconopsis spp., parsley, peony, phlox, Primula, species roses, serviceberry, trillium, Viola spp., and many other hardy shrubs and trees. Most Colorado natives also fall into this category.

Double Dormancy, Etc.

As if all this weren’t enough, some seeds are so finicky that they require both chilling and warmth—in the right order. For example, Trillium needs three months of stratification, then three months of heat, and finally another three months of cold before it will germinate! Luckily, most of these seeds are not ones typical gardeners grow. If you are attempting to germinate the seeds of unusual plants, such as native wildflowers, you may want to investigate further to see if they have more complicated requirements.

Gardening along the Front Range isn’t for wimps. Rainfall is sparse. Leaves scorch in the harsh sunlight. Weather is capricious. Soils are lean and hungry. And then there are the critters—deer, rabbits, pocket gophers—who come looking for a salad bar.

If you’ve dealt with our high winds, decomposed granite (mixed with studio-quality clay), Saharan humidity, and apocalyptic hail, you know that plants have to be sturdier than Everest and more determined than the IRS to survive.

This book introduces  you to the superheroes of the plant kingdom. It’s a guide to Plant Select^TM winners.

The Plant Select^TM program was developed in a cooperative effort among Colorado State University, the Denver Botanic Gardens, and the green industry. Every year, a procession of hopeful annual, perennial and woody plants marches past the judges, each hoping to make the cut. Winning traits include drought tolerance, insect and disease resistance, multi-season interest, and exceptionally pleasing and/or novel form and bloom. Plus, the plants must be easy to grow and propagate without being invasive. Those cultivars chosen enter the Plant Select^TM hall of fame.

Organized by landscape use, chapters include “Trees, Shrubs, and Woody Vines,” “Perennials,” “Perennial Groundcovers,” and “Annuals.” Each entry includes beautiful color photographs, a physical description, growing requirements, and  a specimen’s best and worst features. I particularly appreciate knowing the downsides of a particular plant, as most catalogs write glowing descriptions designed to make a sale.

An appendix summarizes the information in a handy reference chart, very useful for making selections for one’s own garden.

While other books discuss landscaping we can only dream of, Durable Plants delivers beautiful plants we can actually grow in our own gardens. It is truly inspiring.

All of these photographs are of Plant Select winners (from top to bottom): Penstemon x mexicali ‘Red Rocks’, ‘Spanish Gold’ broom (Cytisus purgans), ‘Ruby Moon’ hyacinth bean (Dolichos lablab).

Lady Ross Turaco

It’s the middle of winter. We could go birding, but it’s hard to juggle binoculars when one has on several layers of insulation, hat, scarf, and wool mittens. Cold weather has us huddled indoors, wishing we could migrate to someplace delightfully tropical. Well, we can. I recently visited a place that’s always nice and toasty, filled with moist air, green plants, and exotic species, and is only an hour or so from my home—the Denver Zoo.

Bird World consists of a series of three large, sky-lit rooms, each with its own assortment of brightly colored birds from around the world. The rooms are sized so that you don’t need binoculars to get a good look. Natural surroundings encourage natural behaviors, even courting, nesting and raising young. Because the birds aren’t in cages, there are no bars between you and your subjects, making this a great place to take pictures. Connecting these rooms are wide hallways where more birds live in glass-fronted enclosures.

Turquoise Tanager

If you’re willing to spend some time outdoors, there are plenty of other birds to see. For example, you can be confident that the two species of penguins will be out playing no matter how cold it gets. All in all, there are almost 200 avian species, many of which are rare or endangered. You may not live near Denver, but most metropolitan areas have zoos. They’re the perfect winter destination for the birder who is itching to get out and see some spectacular birds. As a photographer, I appreciated the fact that the birds couldn’t fly away. If the first picture didn’t come out, there were plenty of opportunities to try again. Of course, we can’t add any of these captives to our life lists. But I figure that since it’s unlikely I’m going to Madagascar any time soon, I’ll just be happy for this chance to observe all these amazing birds. For more information on Denver’s excellent zoo, visit their website.

I confess—I am really afraid of spiders. While my rational side finds them fascinating, my emotions run screaming, and so do I.

In a determined effort to overcome what I see as a major stumbling block for a nature lover like myself, I decided to get better acquainted with arachnids. What better place to start than with tarantulas.

Actually, tarantulas bother me less than other spiders. Their furry bodies remind me more of mammals with extra legs. (Those striped garden spiders are another matter entirely.) While venomous, they rarely bite, and their venom isn’t dangerous. Instead, their main mode of defense is launching a barrage of abdominal hairs at you. These barbed spines cause intense skin irritation, and are nearly impossible to remove.

Many tarantulas are quite attractive, in an arachnid-y sort of way. This Mexican Redleg has striking coloration. The Chilean Roseate my husband was holding (above) is one of the most docile tarantulas; both are sold as pets.

Far from being scary monsters, tarantulas are beneficial to people. They eat cockroaches and other insects, scorpions, and the small rodents they find in their underground tunnels. In fact, they think nothing of appropriating that mouse’s burrow, gaining both bed and breakfast at the same time.

A tarantula’s dream home would be a small underground chamber at the bottom of a foot long vertical shaft leading to the surface. The entranceway is often plugged with silk and dried leaves to deter predators. At dusk, the homeowner emerges to sit on the front porch, waiting for some unsuspecting insect to wander too closely. Then the spider pounces on its prey, impaling it with its fangs. When winter comes, tarantulas just hole up and wait for spring.

Female tarantulas can live a long time—over twenty years. While the females are homebodies with relatively short legs (like the Desert Tarantula at right), the longer-legged males roam far and wide searching for a mate. In fact, it’s pretty much the only thing they do. They need to make haste, as male adults only live for a few months. If old age or cold weather doesn’t do them in, their mate might. Females often consider the males a handy meal.

Like other spiders, tarantulas hatch from eggs. The female makes a nice silk nest, lays her eggs, and then bundles them up into a sack. She hauls that sack downstairs where the eggs will mature in the safety of the burrow. About two months later, they hatch, and the babies set out to dig burrows of their own.

Tarantulas enjoy a long childhood, molting as they grow. This might take as much as seven to ten years for males, and a little longer for females. Once they become adults, the males leave their homes to hunt for that elusive perfect mate, while the females hang around waiting for their prince charming to arrive.

Colorado has several species of tarantula, all found in the southern parts of the state. (I was relieved to know that I’m unlikely to find one at home, since we live farther north at 7,000 feet.)

This is a “Sugar City Brown,” otherwise known as Aphonopelma coloradanum. They live in southeast Colorado on rocky hillsides covered with pinyon pines and junipers, where they gobble down other small invertebrates.

The Colorado Chocolate Brown (Aphonopelma echinum) and the Oklahoma Brown (Aphonopelma hentzi) are also sometimes found in southeast Colorado. (Taxonomists are considering lumping all three spiders into two, or even a single, species.)

Colorado’s other two tarantula species, A. vogelae and A. marxi, live in the southwest portion of the state, and are much smaller than the eastern species. A. vogelae is the more common of the two, but both are rare enough to lack common names.

You can learn a lot more about tarantulas in general from the American Tarantula Society. A very informative article by expert Whitney Cranshaw discusses Colorado tarantulas in particular.

How many times have I said that? As a birder, I’m always looking for the rare bird, the unusual find that will add to my life list. Last month’s Snowy Owl fit the bill—getting such a great view of that magnificent predator was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I just got home from a week in northern Oregon and southern Washington. While I did pick up a couple of new species for my list, I mostly saw ducks. Lots of ducks. Hundreds of ducks. (Did I mention I was in Oregon?)

So—I looked at ducks. Really looked. And you know, ducks are pretty cool!

I’ve decided that I really like ducks. For one, they’re easy to identify. Yes, sorting out the Greater Scaup in a pond covered with Lesser Scaup can be dicey, but for the most part, a wigeon is different from a merganser, and neither looks like a Gadwall. After struggling with Empidomax flycatchers last summer, this is a relief.

Also, ducks are easy to see. They don’t hide in thickets the way wrens do. They don’t strain your neck like warblers, flitting around in the highest branches. They just sit out there on the water, in plain view. Even better, they like to hang out in public areas such as your local park. With all the people around, they become pretty tame. You can consult your ID book while they paddle around, knowing that it’s unlikely they’ll fly away before you get a second look.

What I particularly noticed on this trip, however, was how pretty they are. Mallard with that iridescent green head, Shovelers in shades of brick red accented with black and white, the understated elegance of a Gadwall or Scaup—it’s all pretty dazzling when you think about it. And, who could have ever imagined a Wood Duck? Even the females look exotic, with that white eyeliner.

From now on, I’m going to try hard to enjoy whatever birds are around, even if I’ve seen them a hundred times before. Being common doesn’t have to make them less exciting. I still ooh and aah over a crimson sunset. I still think carnations smell wonderful. Chocolate doesn’t lose its appeal just because it’s readily available. And Mallards are pretty spectacular birds. Just look at one!

Even if you’re not much of a planner, some simple steps now will pay off in fewer problems and less work as the season progresses. I’ll start at the beginning: how big a garden should you grow? Cultivating more veggies than you can use increases your expenses, your work load, and your need for compost, water, and pest control.

Begin by making a list of vegetables you like. Include one or two new ones you may want to try. Don’t get taken in by the glossy photos in the catalog. It sounds obvious, but there’s no reason to grow beets if no one in your family eats them.

How much zucchini can you eat?

Now, determine how many servings of each vegetable you intend to eat during the growing season. Do you have salad every day? How often will you prepare eggplant, or green beans? Do you want enough to preserve for later? While you can’t figure exact amounts, you can get an approximation. It helps to realize that you probably don’t need all of the 150 cabbages that would result if you planted an entire packet of seeds!

Finally, decide how many plants you need to grow to meet your needs. In some cases, we eat the entire plant. When you seed carrots or set out lettuce seedlings, you can tell exactly how many heads (excepting hail, rabbits, and other hazards) you can expect to harvest. In crops where we eat the fruit (such as peppers), seed pods (as in green beans), or seeds (peas), estimating your harvest is a little trickier. Iowa State University has published a very useful guide giving the average yields (per 10 feet of row) of common crops. Garden Gate Magazine has their own list. Both these sites assume you plant your crops in rows rather than beds. While I don’t recommend growing most crops in rows (we’ll get to that later), you can use a little math to get an idea of how much each plant will yield.

If you don’t have much space, you may have some decisions to make. Perhaps you’ll want to concentrate on growing just your favorite veggies. Or, you can grow the varieties that cost the most at the market. Many gardeners grow crops like tomatoes because homegrown ones taste so much better.

If you have plenty of space, perhaps you now realize that you don’t need to plant every square inch. Just think of all the digging, watering, and weeding you can avoid. Plus, your neighbors will be much happier to see you without those armloads of extra zucchini.

Now that you have a basic understanding of your needs, you can order your seeds with some degree of sanity. And if one or two extra packets seem to “slip in,” well, I understand. After all, I’m a gardener too.