Rudbeckia ‘Goldsturm’
As I write this I hear frogs singing loudly out back. My neighbor’s backyard stream attracts tiny, charcoal-colored frogs that sing as loudly as cicadas . . . or an alarm clock. I’m amazed that such small creatures can make that big sound. They don’t bother me in the least. At this time of year, our windows remain tightly shut, so their urgent chirping/buzzing is merely summertime’s background noise.
I’d hoped for rain today. Dark clouds rose up this afternoon in the south, pulling moisture from the Gulf of Mexico, but we saw only a few sprinkles. Tomorrow’s chances of rain are diminishing, as are my hopes for some relief for the garden. I know rain would perk up my exhausted plants. Until then, here are a few images of those that laugh at summer’s heat and drought.

The purpling berries of American beautyberry. A harbinger of fall, the purple tinge usually appears on my beautyberry around mid-August. It seems a bit early this year. This native prefers shade and a little extra water, but since mine is located next to a French drain, it survives on the extra it obtains from rainfall runoff.

The first flowers on my yellow bells, or esperanza. This plant, partially shaded by the cedar elm, stands more than 6 feet tall, and its yellow bells have just opened. It’s a dependable summer bloomer that needs no assistance from me.

Butterfly vine’s fluttery, namesake seedpods. Mascagnia macroptera, also known as Gallinita.

Narrowleaf zinnia, an old tried-and-true favorite.

Zanthan Gardens recently lauded the Texas mountain laurel as her favorite summer survivor. Hear, hear! This evergreen, native ornamental tree is gorgeous in every season (see my March 10, 2006, post for a look at its spring flowers), and what’s more, it needs absolutely no assistance. Sure, you want to give it some water to get it started its first year, but after that you can leave it alone, forget about it, give it as much love as you’d expect from a wicked stepmother, and it will not only live but thrive.
The mountain laurel pictured above is an extra one I ended up with. Lacking a special place for it, I plunked it in the rock-hard clay behind my shed, right beside a nasty, tar-painted utility pole I hoped to hide eventually. I never water it. I forget it’s there for months at a time. Admittedly, it grows very slowly without supplemental water, but it does grow. Everyone in Austin should have one of these babies.