Heralds of Spring in Texas

By Roland Wauer

We know by the calendar when spring officially begins, but how does nature tell us spring has come? In Heralds of Spring in Texas Roland H. Wauer walks us through Texas, from the Rio Grande to the Panhandle, as spring arrives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors Press
• Release date: Jul 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781643144931

Roland Wauer

The author retired from the National Park Service after a 32-year career as a park ranger and biologist. He worked in 7 national parks - Crater Lake, Death Valley, Pinnacles, Zion, Big Bend, Great Smoky Mountains, and the Virgin Islands and also as Regional Chief Scientist in the Southwest Region Office in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and as Chief of Resource Management and Chief Scientist for the National Park Service in Washington, DC. Since retirement, he has written 29 books on the national parks and the wildlife, particularly the birds and butterflies, and two novels: Natural Inclinations, One Man's Adventure's in the Natural World, and Ruins to Ruins, From the Mayan Jungle to the Aztec Metropolis.

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Preface

Memory is like a child walking along a seashore. You can never tell what small pebbles it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.

—ANONYMOUS

Almost everyone who hears about this project—a book about the signs of spring in Texas—is enthused. For spring is the ultimate outdoor experience! Anyone who has spent time outdoors in spring immediately envisions his or her own harbinger of the new season. Even those individuals with only the most casual orientation toward nature get enthused. And those of us who spend much time afield may have several spring heralds from a variety of locations. This enthusiasm, I believe, is because one’s harbinger of spring is such a personal experience, something that one may anticipate each year with considerable enthusiasm. Or it may be a once in a lifetime experience that remains a vivid and wonderful memory that is recalled each year in spring.

I must admit that the idea of doing a book on spring heralds is not mine. It evolved from an editor of a publishing company in the Intermountain West who asked if I might be interested in doing such a book for the entire United States. The idea, of course, immediately set the brain waves in motion, and I soon prepared a prospectus that called for short chapters and pen-and-ink sketches for each topic; I submitted it to that editor. Although she agreed

with my approach and told me go ahead, and I began to solicit ideas from friends and colleagues all across the country, we could not reach agreement on the illustrations. She expected me to provide photographs of all the topics; I was unwilling to do that much traveling for the project advance and royalty. I had just completed four years of visiting every national park in the United States and Canada, conducting the research necessary for books on birds of national parks. Frankly, I was traveled out.

Almost a year later, while visiting with folks at the Hummer/Bird Celebration in Rockport, Texas, Noel Parsons, acquisitions editor for Texas A&M University Press, asked about my current writing projects. So I told him about a couple of current projects— For All Seasons: A Big Bend Journal and Birding Texas—as well as about my experience with spring heralds. Noel immediately expressed an interest in a spring heralds book for Texas and asked to see the original proposal. Within a few weeks we reached an agreement on this project, and soon afterward I begin to solicit additional ideas from other people within the state.

Once again, everyone I contacted seemed genuinely interested. They all had a spring herald of one kind or another, although many were redundant. For example, returning purple martins and scissor-tailed flycatchers were mentioned by numerous individuals; obviously these two bird species are important harbingers of spring. And many responses mentioned greening mesquites, probably the single best indication that spring has truly arrived in Texas. My requests for ideas continued until I had fifty sound and varied spring heralds from all parts of the state. It was difficult not to overload the topics with birds, since spring migration is such a significant event in Texas, and so many of my friends are birders. But in the end, topics for the fifty chapters include twenty-three on birds, ten on trees and shrubs, ten on wildflowers, and seven on an assortment of topics, including alligators, gray squirrels, and various invertebrates.

Participants varied from true naturalists, such as John Tveten of Baytown and Laurence Parent of Austin, who spend their lives photographing and writing about nature, to resource managers who are involved with protecting Texas natural heritage—Kelly

Bryan, Larry Ditto, Randy Fugate, David Riskind, and Chuck Sexton—to everyday retirees, housewives, medical doctors, and college professors, all of whom have a deep appreciation for nature.

I am indebted to all of the participants who sent me information on their spring heralds, and many of those same individuals also reviewed pertinent chapters. They all are a significant part of this book, which would not have been possible without them. I sincerely thank them. For South Texas, these individuals include Robin Doughty, associate professor of geography at the University of Texas and author of The Mockingbird; Father Tom Pincelli, a Catholic priest with a deep interest in birds of the Rio Grande Valley and in helping other birders; Tony Bennett, an active birder and marvelous wildlife artist: Randy Fugate, Texas Parks and Wildlife Department biologist responsible for monitoring wild turkeys in South Texas; Paul Palmer, recently retired professor of history at Texas A&I University at Kingsville, and also an active birder; Lorie Black of Abilene, who provided me with comments as well as a poem about mesquites; and Derek Muschalek of Yorktown, a wildflower and butterfly enthusiast.

In the Gulf Coast region, participants include Larry Ditto, biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and also an exceptional wildlife photographer; Lynne Drawe, director of the Rob and Bessie Welder Wildlife Foundation near Sinton and a published botanist; Wayne McAlister, biologist at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, living on Matagorda Island, and author of naturalist guides to both places; Petra Hockey, an active birder living at Port O’Connor; David Heinicke, park naturalist at Brazos Bend State Park; Mike Austin, a medical doctor living in Friendswood; and Bill Graber, a retired physician and long-time birder from Beaumont.

In the Trans-Pecos, individuals include Betty and Tom Alex, GIS specialist and archeologist, respectively, at Big Bend National Park; Doris Evans, who taught at the Big Bend National Park school for several years before moving to Arizona; Keith Yarborough, a retired National Park Service scientist and geologist living in Alpine; Kelly Bryan, a biologist with the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and an active birder, living in Fort Davis;

Mark Adams, superintendent of McDonald Observatory in the Davis Mountains, and also an active birder; and Brent Wauer, my brother, who worked at Guadalupe Mountains National Park for many years but has now returned to teaching school in Arizona.

In the Pineywoods, participants include Jonell Buckels of Dayton, who has lived in the Pineywoods all her life; Janet and Perry Fleckman of Port Arthur, retired from the lumber business and staying busy with birding and watching gray squirrels; David Baker, park naturalist at Big Thicket National Preserve; Keith Shackelford, who lived in the Pineywoods for many years but is now the Texas coordinator for Partners in Flight in Austin; John Tveten, nature writer and photographer living in Baytown; and Dorothy Metzger of Longview, an active birder and editor of the Northeast Texas Field Ornithologists’ newsletter.

In the Hill Country, individuals include Nick Jackson, medical doctor and birder from Kerrville; Dan Baker of Bulverde, who runs daily at Guadalupe River State Park; John Gee, an active birder and retired oil company executive living in Dripping Springs, and Paul and Georgean Kyle, who established the Chimney Swift Conservation Association in Driftwood. The several participants in Austin were Jim and Lynne Weber, both nature enthusiasts and IBM employees; Scott Royder, conservation director for the Sierra Club; Laurence Parent, well-known nature writer and photographer; David Riskind, natural resource program director for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department; Barbara Ribble, an active birder and retired librarian; and Chuck Sexton, biologist at Balcones Canyonland National Wildlife Refuge nearby In the Prairie and Lakes region, individuals include Mark Elwonger, a chemical engineer and birder living in Victoria; Ken Bruns, a mechanic at Dupont Victoria and an active birder; Bob and Mickey Burleson, a Temple attorney and member of the board of directors of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, respectively; Keith Arnold, biology professor at Texas A&M University and professional ornithologist; June Osborne of Waco, an active birder and author of The Cardinal; also in Waco, Fred Gehlbach, retired biology professor from Baylor University and author of several books on natural history; Charles and Betty Crabtree, active birders and outdoor enthusiasts from

Grandbury; Ned Fritz, long-term environmentalists from Dallas; Ken Stiegman, biologist with the Heard Natural History Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary at Plano; and birder Lee Lemmons from Denison.

In the Panhandle and Western Plains region, individuals include, from Midland, outdoor enthusiast Burr Williams and retired librarian and long-time birder Frances Williams; Terry Maxwell, biology professor at San Angelo State University and bird bander; Kent Rylander, biology professor at Texas Tech University in Lubbock; and from Amarillo Peggy Accord, active birder and wildflower enthusiast, and Ken Seyffert, birder and author.

In addition, other friends and colleagues who provided me with information about their heralds of spring include (alphabetically): Marjory Adams, Charles Bender, Lytle Blankenship, Charlie Clark, Carol Edwards, Judie Farnsworth, Brush Freeman, Jesse Grantham, Lelia Nichols, David Musselman, Joel Reese, James Reveley, Rod Rylander, Jeff Selleck, Joel Simon, Linda White, Matt White, C. C. Wiedenfeld, Sue Wiedenfeld, and Mimi Wolf.

I also am indebted to Ralph Scott of Bryan for the many excellent illustrations appearing in this book.

Finally, as regards the numerous common and scientific names in this book, common names are those initially used by the various participants. Those of birds, reptiles, and butterflies are in agreement with pertinent authorities, namely the American Ornithologists’ Union, Roger Conant’s field guide to eastern reptiles and amphibians, and the North American Butterfly Association, respectively. Names for plants are less dependable, so all the common names utilized, along with their most up-to-date scientific names, are listed in the back of the book. The principal reference was Checklist of the Vascular Plants of Texas by Stephan Hatch and colleagues, and I consulted the American Horticultural Society’s Encyclopedia of Garden Plants and David Largent’s How to Identify Mushrooms to Genus I: Macroscopic Features for nonnative and non-vascular species. The one exception is Texabama croton, a new species to science. Balcones Canyonland National Wildlife Refuge is the type locality; see the chapter Golden-cheeked Warblers at Balcones Canyonland.

Heralds of Spring in Texas

Introduction

I grew up in the country rather alone, and one of my favorite pastimes was to walk in the woods exploring particularly in the springtime. I knew where the first wild violets bloomed. I looked for the dogwood, which came early—white blossoms like stars spangled the bare woods. Beginning with the pine trees and the wildflowers of East Texas, I have had a love affair with nature I have never ceased to savor.

—LADY BIRD JOHNSON, 1997

Spring! It is an extra-special time of year. It signifies optimism, renewal, a fresh start. It seems to make everything young again. Spring brings with it anticipation of all the good things to come. It is a basic part of human nature to anticipate a new cycle of growth in our natural world and to recall fond memories of earlier springs. But the signals of spring are varied and personal. They differ from one person to the next and often are very special to the beholder.

Spring, for me, offers all the best in nature: freshness, anticipation, and increased opportunities for discovery. How soon will the first agarito blossoms appear? What will be the first freshly emerged butterfly? How early will the purple martins return? How soon can I expect my first spring hummingbird? Spring is that time of year when I must not miss a single day in the field. For each day offers new and amazing opportunities, each more exciting than the last. Fresh blossoms and melodic birdsongs are new every day.

Louis Halle (1957:135) expressed a similar sentiment in his lovely book, Spring in Washington:

Spring returns year after year, yet age cannot wither her, nor custom stake her infinite variety. To the fulfillment of one’s expectations she is forever adding to the joy of the unexpected—like the sea in no wonder the same… and the same in each wonder. Who knows what garment she will wrap today or how her hair will be done up; whether she will advance with song and splender or slip quietly in? I can predict the hour and the minute when the sun will cross the equator, but not the exact day of the wood thrush. I can foretell many of the birds that will be on the list of visitors, but not all-and among them will be some it never occurred to me I might see. I set out each morning not knowing what surprises and new delight may be in store for me.

I have long been smitten with spring. I have even wondered if my March 22 birthday, the first full day following the spring equinox, is somehow related to my love of spring. Perhaps I was introduced to the outdoors in spring as a tiny baby, imprinted with that glorious time of year. One of my earliest memories is a song I learned as youngster, When It’s Springtime in the Rockies. It was more a love song than anything else, but somehow it held a special springtime message for me. For growing up in the Rocky Mountains—the Grand Tetons were visible from the edge of my town—I anticipated spring all winter, so that I could hike the Teton trails and see, smell, and feel springtime in the Rockies.

Anticipation of spring is evident for peoples throughout the world. Spring profoundly influenced the ancients and played a significant role in mythology, folklore, and art. In America, spring is marked by an abundance of festivals, weddings, special days such as Arbor Day and May Day—and spring cleaning. Easter is the time for women to wear their new spring outfits. Although Texans do not experience the dramatic change of seasons as do the people in the far north, where the long winter season recedes with breakup of the ice in rivers and bays, the psychological greening can be just as important. Even in Texas, cabin fever is a reality to

those individuals unable or unwilling to experience the outdoors in winter.

But spring also has its down side. Too often, spring blossoms represent hay fever and allergies. Pollen counts often are incorporated into local television and radio weather reports. In West Texas, spring winds can be brutal, especially in the afternoons. And too often, a norther arrives just when the Hill Country peach blossoms reach their peak.

Weather, however, is not the principal cause of spring. Although temperatures and strong winds have great influence on plant development and animal activity, the number of hours of daylight is the key signal. The increasing hours of daylight (daily photoperiod) following the winter solstice on December 21 or 22, when the sun is at its southernmost position and day length is at its minimum, begins the startup of spring. All life reacts to that most important occurrence.

Numerous authors and philosophers have expressed their anticipation of and joy over spring. There is a Chinese proverb stating that spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men. Author Thomas Wolfe wrote that spring has no language but a cry. Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote: Today I went out. It smelled, it felt, it sensed spring. I had for the first time faith—not intellectual belief, but a sudden feeling of turning tide. ‘Yes, there will be spring. And humorist Dorothy Parker observed, Every year, back spring comes, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off, and the ground all mucked up with arbutus.

The revelations of spring vary from subtle nuances that only a seasoned naturalist can detect to much more obvious clues, such as a purple martin returning to its ancestral nest box, recently cleaned and readied for that special occasion, such as discovering the first violet or Indian paintbrush of the new season or hearing the roar of a territorial alligator. This book is about all those things that signify spring to people all across state. Fifty such topics were chosen for detailed discussion.

Several additional ideas were suggested by friends and colleagues but did not necessarily lend themselves to further discussion. For instance, Carol Edwards told me that when she was growing up in

Carrizo Springs, her indication of spring was when the Dimmit County sheriff’s deputies changed hats from winter felt to summer straw. David Heinicke, park naturalist at Brazos Bend State Park, explained that his spring will always mean big yellow school buses and lots and lots of school field trips. In the Bastrop area, Brush Freeman’s spring heralds include the blooming of bluets and wild onions and the disappearance of wintering rusty blackbirds.

Joel Simon of Calallen wrote, In South Texas the three seasons that must pass before the arrival of spring do not have a pleasing fragrance. Summer is very hot, dry, and dusty with a smell so acrid that it often burns the nostril and even brings tears to the eyes. Fall is humid, still hot, and the breezes stop; it has a musty odor. Winter is cold and clear, but there is little aroma in its chilly winds.

Joel continued: My nose knows when spring is on the way. The rain now is different, not cold and damp, but instead it has a refreshing and invigorating smell. The first flowering plants bring with them an odor of renewal, young and alive. Clover, grass, flowers, and trees join in a heavenly chorus of aromas. How do I know when spring is nearing? I smell it coming.

Jonell Buckels wrote to me from the Pineywoods: Before electricity, television or telephones reached to our rural community of Old River, life centered around the seasons. The circle of seasons had high points, such as hog-killing and sausage-making in fall. I can still smell the damp, smoky smell of Grandma’s smokehouse. But my favorite season was spring. It was then time to hunt for the first violet.

Lelia Nichols, after reading about spring in one of my weekly Nature Notes. columns in the Victoria Advocate, sent me the following note: My favorite spring heralds are, of course, the beautiful southern Texas wildflowers, and the musical spring sounds of the birds, crickets, and other wildlife. The ground greening, the trees budding, and the warmth of the sun on my face. But in reality, in my neighborhood, the signs of spring are overgrown clover, chimney swifts in my chimney, flies in the house, and ticks on the dogs. Everywhere we turn we must take the good with the bad.

Joel Reese wrote from the Panhandle that the spring flowers in that part of Texas "just kind of sneak up on you. But bugs, you

can’t miss! I’m talking about those kind that ‘spat’ onto your car windshield, especially those flying-ant-looking kind that swarm in large numbers as they begin to mate."

Officially, spring begins with the spring equinox, on March 21. On that day, the earth’s axis is at a right angle to the sun so that both poles receive equal illumination from the sun, and therefore the days are of equal length, hence equinox Spring continues until June 21, the summer solstice, when the earth’s axis is at its greatest angle to the sun, when the noonday sun is directly overhead at the Tropic of Cancer, and daylight lasts twenty-four hours north of the Arctic Circle.

Edwin Way Teale, author of North with the Spring, offers an additional perspective (1951:1): Spring advances up the United States at the average of about fifteen miles a day. It ascends mountainsides at the rate of about a hundred feet a day. It sweeps ahead like a flood of water, racing down the long valleys, creeping up hillsides in a rising tide. Most of us, like the man who lives on the bank of a river and watches the stream flow by, see only one phase of the movement of spring. Each year the season advances toward us out of the south, sweeps around us, goes flooding away into the north.

Spring traditionally is thought to include the months of March, April, and May. But in the south, spring may arrive in February or even in late January, while in the north, March may still be winter. Because of the huge size of Texas—extending from south to north for approximately 730 miles between latitudes of 25 degrees and 47 minutes at the mouth of the Rio Grande and 36 degrees and 40 minutes at the northern tip of the Panhandle—at least three broad growing seasons exist across the state, depending upon the last mean date of frost in spring. Most planting instructions, including those on packages of commercial seeds, illustrate these zones. Growing season varies from an average of 340 days per year in the Rio Grande Valley to 190 days per year in the Panhandle.

Plant Hardiness Zones, established by the U.S. Department of Agriculture and based on average minimum temperatures in Fahrenheit, divide the United States into eleven sectors, of which four occur in Texas. All of South and coastal Texas are included in

Zone 9 (20 to 40 degrees). The Pineywoods, Hill Country, and the southern portions of the Plains and Lakes and Trans Pecos regions are included in Zone 8 (10 to 20 degrees). Northern portions of the Prairies and Lakes region, most of the Western Plains, the southern portion of the Panhandle, and the northern half of the Trans-Pecos are in Zone 7 (0 to 10 degrees). Only the upper three-fourths of the Panhandle fall into Zone 6 (minus 10 to 0 degrees).

Although these climatic zones are general at best, because there always are scattered sites within each that do not necessarily fit into the broad scheme of things, they do provide an initial perspective of the northward movement of spring across the state. And I have utilized this concept in discussing the various spring heralds in this book, starting in South Texas and ending in the Panhandle.

In South Texas, winter seems less a major change in the seasons than a series of other indicators: the arrival of the winter Texans, who spend their summers far to the north and come south only when temperatures back home become unbearable; and the annual celebrations of Christmas and New Year. Although a few of the southern trees and shrubs shed their leaves in late fall, and naturalists must relearn the winter plumages of warblers—the plumages that have disappeared by the time they begin their northward journeys—winter in South Texas can be very subtle. This usually is also the case along the