Year of the Pecan
Last year was the Year of No Pecans. Usually, the four giant pecan trees and six medium trees produce a fair amount of nuts, but last year they were nearly barren.
I’ve heard old woodsman say that’s because we were fixin to get smashed by a big storm last year, which I guess would have been that hurricane that ended up turning right at the last minute.
This year, possibly in celebration of being spared the hurricane wrath, these trees are loaded with pecans. Bursting with pecans. To the extent that a huge branch flopped onto the front yard from about 70 feet, up at the top of an 80-year-old tree.
Nick and I examined it this morning. The big end of the branch was about six inches in diameter and appeared to be healthy. All I can figure is that the weight of all the pecans hanging on it was too much.
It’s been a big year for the figs, too. Usually I drape three or four rolls of bird netting over a big, sprawling turkey fig tree/bush in the back yard, which is enough to cover about a third of the lower branches, saving some for me and giving the birds access to the higher fruit.
This year I didn’t bother; there was so much fruit we just picked and ate whatever the birds and squirrels left us. I might’ve put up the bird netting anyway had we been in the mood to make preserves, but we’re so busy with FortBendNow that we haven’t had time to devote to home & garden pursuits. Or, as is obvious, to the blog.
Rain could be a contributing factor to the fruit & nut largesse. While a hot drought apparently still plagues people in parts of the Panhandle, down here in this part of the Texas Subtropics we’ve had plenty of rain, alternating now with 100-degree sunshine.
The St. Augustine grass goes crazy in weather like this, making weekly lawn mowings mandatory.
It’s also brought out the critters. The fire ants are having almost as good a year as the pecans. I’ve managed to eliminate most of the larger nests in the back yard proper, but there are huge nests, some nearly invisible, in the grass going down to the river. In the twilight, wearing sandals and staring off into the sunset is a sure sign you are about to receive a footfull of fire ant bites.
The neighbors know what it’s all about, but I wonder what strangers would think, if they were to observe from the hill back by the house while one of us hopped around cursing while the other helpfully picked the remaining ants off an ejected shoe.
Periods of heavy rain also can mean snakes. I found a coral snake on the front porch a few days ago – the first one I’ve seen on our property in three years. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything with me to kill it with. It tried to hide under some shrubs (they aren’t aggressive) and I was able to reach back and ring the doorbell while keeping sight of the snake.
C. handed me a decorative walking stick from Kenya, created for the tourist trade. Its ends were blunt, but I was able to shove the coral snake into the dirt behind its head. Even twisting and putting as much pressure as I could, it wasn’t enough to kill the snake because the dirt was too soft. After about a minute I raised the walking stick up to try to get a better angle, and this time caught the snake about halfway along its body. But the dirt still was too soft.
I tried to lift/scoop the snake onto the concrete porch where I could kill it, but it slipped away. I could see it below a bush, and tried to keep an eye on it while C. went for a hoe. But by the time she returned it was getting dark and the coral snake escaped.
I hoed all around the front shrubs, pulverizing the underbrush, and kicked up and killed what I call a rosy boa. I couldn’t tell what it was in the near dark and didn’t want to take a chance on handling a baby coral snake.
What I’m calling a rosy boa probably is something else. I’ve lived all over the country and I believe there are more varieties of snakes here than almost anyplace. What I’m talking about here is a small, gray and rose-colored harmless snake that likes to move around in semi-composted leaves in the shade. I hate killing any non-poisonous snake because they do a great job keeping rodents and insects at bay. This time it couldn’t be helped.
Coral snakes are the most poisonous of the dangerous snakes we have. Their venom is in the same class as that of cobras. Luckily, they aren’t aggressive and they don’t have fangs. In order to deliver their poison to a human, they would have to chew on you a little bit. They are a fairly small, beautiful snake, with a black head, a yellow band around the neck, usually another black band and then alternating red, yellow and black bands the length of the body.
Don’t play crocodile hunter with these guys.
→ B.Dunn, Aug 15, 2006, 09 08 am
