Backyard Nature Wednesday: Two beautyberries

I have two varieties of beautyberry in my garden.
The purple variety, which is the kind that is seen in Nature.

And a white cultivar.

Now, in past years, I have found that the birds in my yard generally wait until a bit later to start hitting the beautyberries for their daily snacks. They would usually exhaust the softer elderberries and the pokeberries which I also have in my garden before they started on the beautyberries. The beautyberry is a harder fruit and it will last longer on the shrub, right into winter. That's mostly when I've noticed birds eating them in past years. But this must be a particularly delicious year for these berries because the birds are already devouring them with great relish.

 Also, in the past, the birds usually started with the white berries and stripped all of them before they moved on to the purple. Not this year. They are showing a distinct preference for the purple. Mockingbirds, robins, cardinals, grackles, even wrens and chickadees have been observed eating them. So far, I haven't noticed a single bird eating the white berries.
But they sure love the purple ones! Especially the mockingbirds.

And the robins.

I don't think these berries are going to last until winter this year.

Comments

  1. Kathleen ScottAugust 27, 2014 at 2:38 PM

    Everything you said echoes my experience, including the inference that every year is different.

    Love the photos in this post too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersAugust 27, 2014 at 3:07 PM

      Nature always surprises us, doesn't it, Kathleen?

      Delete
  2. Paula @ Blooms 'n' SpadesAugust 29, 2014 at 11:16 AM

    I've never heard of Beautyberries before Dorothy, I wonder if they have another name here in the UK? They certainly look lovely though.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersAugust 29, 2014 at 12:51 PM

      Beautyberry is a native American shrub, but there may well be a related plant that grows in the UK. Through much of the year, the shrubs are not particularly eye-catching but once the berries mature, they are quite striking in appearance. Until the birds strip all those berries...

      Delete
  3. Anastasia AbboudAugust 29, 2014 at 11:35 AM

    I love beautyberries. The purple-berry variety is one of the first things I planted in my new garden. I've always been hesitant to grow the white-berried plant, fearing the birds would ignore it. Now, you have taught me that they usually enjoy the white berries. Do you imagine that this year they will go for those once they've devoured all of the purple?
    Also, thank you for sharing the photos of those lucky, well-fed birds! Awesome!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersAugust 29, 2014 at 12:53 PM

      I'm sure the hungry birds will eventually get around to the white berries as well. By the end of winter, there will be no berry undevoured in my yard!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
Read more