Chuck-Will's-Widows

Chuck-will's-widows are nightjars that are present in the Southeast in the spring and summer months. They are insect feeders and have a repetitive call that can be heard from dusk until dawn; they call from the time they move into the area until about late June.  They show up in north Georgia in mid- to late April.  After mid June, they quiet down, raise their brood, then head back down south in the fall.  Although whip-poor-wills are better-known and supposedly include north Georgia as part of their summer range, I have never heard one.  Common nighthawks, another nightjar, are also allegedly in the area, but I haven't heard them here, either--ever.  I did, however, hear them in the early summer in east-central Illinois when I used to live there.

When I first moved to my house in the exurbs of Atlanta in the late 1990s, I heard chucks the first spring.  At the time, my subdivision was one of a few cut into the woods, so the surrounding area was mostly forested. Between my subdivision and the one immediately next to mine is a belt of large trees that weren't taken out--some are on the lots in my subdivision; some are in the next.  I used to sometimes have one there, possibly even on my property, on some nights.  I think I caught a glimpse of one at dusk one summer; it called for a few minutes from the ground inside the tree line, then abruptly stopped. I saw a large dark blur flying away.  Even if not in or next to my own yard, they were always nearby and plainly audible--usually a few could be heard at once, but almost always at least one.  I could usually hear them inside the house.  I asked friends what they might be and they suggested whip-poor-wills; I dug a little deeper and soon identified them as Chuck-will's-widows.

After about 2010, their nearness and numbers changed gradually.  A few years ago I realized that I didn't always hear them anymore.  Now I basically never do, because the area has gotten pretty well-developed. Several hundred acres of woods nearby have been turned into additional subdivisions, strip malls, and warehouses over the last couple of decades.  When I hear them at all here, it's mostly right when they are first coming into the area--presumably as they are heading toward summer nesting spots where their preferred habitat still exists.  This year, I heard one the morning of April 24th, some distance away, at 1 am when the dog decided she needed to go out.  The same thing happened last year: once in April, then basically never again for the rest of the season.

They are definitely coming back into Georgia now--the evening of April 27th, I was at a friend's house that's located in an area much like mine used to be--an isolated subdivision cut into the surrounding forest.  At 9 pm it was obvious they were everywhere.  I could hear several close by.  I can't help feeling a little wistful at their disappearance near my formerly exurban (now suburban) house, much like Sigrid Sanders noted in a column in 2009 (the link at the top of this page has a recording of their call; her column also has a link to a recording).

Development does push them out.  Forty years ago, they were probably common in Gwinnett County, but now probably are relatively rare there.  The same has now happened where I live.  It's not enough to have a little clutch of trees here and there--the spot behind my house where one used to occasionally reside has been unchanged since 2001 or so.  There have to be a lot of such places available nearby to support a population.  That's why I think I only hear them early in the season--they'll stop for a night in my neighborhood when first arriving, but they won't stay.  There aren't enough others here.

For now, if I want to hear them--and I do--I'll have to jump in the car and drive a ways--though not all that far.  I'm now in the suburbs, but the forest isn't far away.

Native Azaleas

Azaleas are well-known in the South.  They're acid-loving plants that enjoy a bit of shade, and can be had in a wide array of colors--including white, pink, red, purple, and orange.  Less well-known are native azaleas, which thrive in the understory in southern hardwood forests.

Named cultivars have been developed; the only one I have seen in the wild is the Piedmont.  It's a pale pink and blooms early.  Native azaleas are tall and relatively spindly compared to their compact shrubby counterparts; they're deciduous versus evergreen.

"Lilacs Don't Grow in Georgia..."

I have heard that numerous times, most recently from someone in the garden department at a retail outlet here.  Many varieties of the traditional northern-planted lilac, Syringa vulgaris, apparently need more chilling hours than north Georgia typically delivers.  However, there are low-chill varieties available.  As I have written before, I have one.  The only catch is that I'm not sure anymore what it is.  I got three: two Lavender Lady and one Blue Skies.  I gave one away (probably one of the LLs) and an oaf with the phone company almost immediately killed another by over-spraying glyphosate.  I think what I have at this point is the other LL.  I think Blue Skies bought it courtesy of AT&T.

Whatever the plant is, it has bloomed reliably every year (when the deer haven't eaten the buds or a late frost hasn't killed them as they were about to open).  Two problems with lilacs are commonly cited:  lilac borers and powdery mildew.  I have never had any problem with powdery mildew but I did have a lilac borer one time kill a major branch.

LL is a Descanso hybrid, one of several developed in southern California.  An article in Sunset magazine describes a few others.

My lilac has endured but not really thrived.  There have been a lot of drought summers since it was planted, and it has done well to survive.  It isn't much taller now than it was in the picture in the link referenced at the top of the post, which was probably shot 5+ years ago.  It has remained a small shrub.

It blooms every year in March and finishes up by about the first week of April.  It is a little ahead of Miss Kim, S. patula, which blooms in mid-April.  Miss Kim has a different scent that is still nice (albeit heavier and more cloying than the other lilac) and the flowers are much smaller.  My Miss Kims have bloomed pretty much every year, too, although they can be zapped by a late frost, as well.  I had one break apart in tropical-storm-force winds, so I pulled it out and hauled it to an inert landfill.  I now have only two left.  They grow to be about seven feet high.

Lilacs are a very fragrant early to mid-spring flower.  They come just before native azaleas and about a month before gardenias.  I was introduced to them first in Denver, but later when I lived in the Midwest.  It was those memories that made me want to try them here.  I'm glad I did.

Bread Fail

I have written before about loaves of bread that did not turn out well.  I had another one recently with a 100% whole wheat loaf.  I knew immediately when I added the water that I had over-hydrated the sponge.  I could've added more flour, but I decided to let it go and see how it turned out.

It was an epic mess.  First, when I put it on the counter to fold it and put it in the proofing basket it was very sticky, fell apart, and was like trying to form oatmeal (cooked oatmeal, that is).  It left a mess in the proofing basket.  It went into the casserole dish and spread out like liquid sludge.  And when it came out of the oven, it was flat.

Shown in the first picture is the flat loaf next to a cut-open normal loaf that's 50/50 white/whole wheat.

Shown next is the reverse:  the cut-open flatbread loaf next to an uncut 50/50 loaf that rose normally.  As you can see, the one that was over-hydrated is pretty flat but not impossible to work with.

I have been using it for sandwiches, albeit fairly small oval ones, and  the bread's flavor is okay.  It's a very dense loaf, so even though the slices are small, they're filling.

Usually with whole wheat, more water is needed than for an equivalent amount of white flour.  The heirloom wheat seems to not absorb as much water, even when ground fairly fine, so it doesn't require as much as King Arthur or Gold Medal whole wheat flour.  It's a constant learning curve, but I know what consistency I'm shooting for with the initial sponge that will yield good results in the finished product.