By Ann Asher

Every spring, garden centers fill with shoppers loading young trees onto trailers and into pickup trucks. It makes sense. The weather is warming, everything is turning green and planting season feels like it has arrived.

But ask an arborist or Extension horticulturist when they would rather plant a tree, and you’ll probably hear a different answer: fall.

It may seem backward at first, but in North Texas and central Oklahoma, experts widely consider the months between late September and early winter the best time of year to plant most trees. The leaves may be getting ready for winter, but the roots keep growing below the surface long after top growth has slowed. That lets a young tree establish itself before the next hot summer arrives.

That’s a tremendous advantage in a region where summer temperatures routinely climb into the 90s and beyond.

A newly planted tree has one job: grow roots. A tree planted in spring has only a short window before it must also support a flush of new leaves while enduring months of heat, drying winds and occasional drought. That combination can put significant stress on a young tree before its roots have had time to spread into the surrounding soil.

A fall-planted tree has a much easier assignment.

As air temperatures cool, the soil often stays warm for weeks. Those conditions encourage continued root growth without asking the tree to produce new leaves or long shoots. Instead of splitting its energy between growth above and below ground, the tree can put most of its effort into building a healthy root system. By spring, it has settled into its new home and is better prepared for warm weather. Research and recommendations from both Oklahoma State University Extension and Texas A&M AgriLife Extension support fall as an ideal planting season for many landscape trees in this region.

You still can’t dig a hole and walk away.

Choosing the right location is just as important as choosing the right tree. Consider the mature height and spread, not the size of the sapling you’re bringing home. A small oak, pecan or cedar elm may fit comfortably today, but in a few decades it could tower over a house or tangle with utility lines if you plant it without a plan. Likewise, trees that prefer moist soils may struggle in dry, exposed spots, while drought-tolerant native species often need far less maintenance once established.

When it’s time to plant, dig a hole two to three times wider than the root ball, but no deeper.

One of the most common mistakes homeowners make is planting too deep. The point where the trunk begins to flare into the roots should sit at or just above the finished soil level. Burying that flare can lead to poor growth and long-term health problems.

Backfill with the native soil that came out of the hole instead of rich potting soil or heavy amendments. It may seem like a kindness, but surrounding the roots with very different soil can discourage them from growing outward into the ground where they’ll ultimately need to survive.

Water thoroughly after planting, then keep watering deeply as needed during dry periods through fall and winter. Even dormant trees need moisture while their roots continue to develop. A layer of mulch two to four inches deep around the base helps conserve soil moisture, regulate temperature and reduce weed competition. Keep the mulch pulled back several inches from the trunk. The familiar “mulch volcano” piled against the bark may look tidy, but it can trap moisture, encourage decay and attract insects.

If you’re unsure what to plant, consider species well adapted to the Southern Plains. Bur oak, chinkapin oak, cedar elm, Shumard oak, bald cypress, Mexican plum, eastern redbud and native pecan are all excellent choices in many parts of North Texas and central Oklahoma, depending on soil conditions and available space. Native trees generally handle local weather extremes better and provide valuable habitat for birds, butterflies and other wildlife.

Planting a tree is one of the few gardening projects that benefits future generations. Long after this year’s tomatoes are forgotten and next season’s flowers have come and gone, that tree will still be growing. It may shade a porch, shelter wildlife, lower summer cooling costs or become the backdrop for family photographs that haven’t been taken yet.

Spring may get most of the attention, but fall gives young trees their best chance to thrive. Give them a strong start now, and they’ll spend the years ahead returning the favor.

By Ann Asher

Bats have never had the best public relations team.

They come out at dusk, fly in quick, uneven patterns and have spent too many years tied to scary movies, old barns and Halloween decorations. For a lot of people, the first reaction to seeing a bat is ducking, squealing or hurrying back inside.

Out in the real world, especially across Texas, bats do quiet work most of us never see.

While we are closing gates, turning off barn lights, watering the last few plants or heading toward the house for the evening, bats are just getting started. Many of the bats found in Texas feed on insects, including moths, beetles and other night-flying insects. That makes them part of the natural system working across farms, ranches, ponds, creeks, barns and backyards after dark.

For farmers and ranchers, that matters. Insects do more than annoy you in the backyard. They can affect crops, gardens, livestock comfort and the general balance of the outdoors. Bats won’t wipe out every mosquito or pest insect on a place, but they are beneficial wildlife. They feed at night, after many birds and other daytime predators have quit for the day, which gives them their own role in the landscape.

Contrary to a common misconception, bats are not blind. Many bats use echolocation to find insects and move through the night, but they can also see. Another old fear is that bats want to fly into people’s hair. They do not. A bat flying low or close is usually chasing insects or trying to steer away, not looking for trouble.

Bats are still wild animals, though. Respect them, and don’t handle them.

Rabies is the main safety concern people think of with bats, and it is a serious one. Not every bat has rabies, but treat any bat found on the ground, acting strangely, unable to fly or inside a home with caution.

Never pick up a bat with bare hands. If a person or pet may have been bitten or scratched, or if there is any chance of contact while someone was sleeping, contact local health officials or animal control for guidance.

Common sense goes a long way. Keep pets vaccinated. Teach children not to touch wildlife. If a bat gets into a house, don’t panic, but don’t ignore it either. Close off the area if possible, keep people and pets away and contact the appropriate local professionals if there is any concern about exposure.

Around farms and ranches, bats may roost in trees, bridges, barns, old buildings or other sheltered places. Sometimes that is not a problem. Other times, especially if bats are getting into living spaces or busy work areas, you may need to exclude them.

Timing matters. In some cases, sealing an opening at the wrong time can trap young bats inside or create a bigger problem. Wildlife professionals or Extension resources can help property owners find the safest and most responsible way to handle a bat colony in a building.

Some people put up bat houses, which can be a good option when placed correctly. A bat house doesn’t guarantee that bats will move in, however. Location, height, sun exposure, temperature and nearby habitat all matter. Natural roosting areas are important, too, which is why dead trees, wooded edges, water sources and undisturbed spaces can help support bat populations.

Landowners don’t have to turn their place into a bat sanctuary. It can be enough to understand that bats have a job to do. They share the same outdoor world as songbirds, pollinators, frogs, owls, deer and the insects we notice whether we want to or not.

Bats are also a good reminder that something useful isn’t always pretty, popular or easy to appreciate at first glance.

Some of the hardest-working creatures on a farm or ranch are the ones we barely see. Bats don’t ask for attention or show themselves in daylight. They take the night shift.

The next time you see one dipping and turning through the evening sky, try not to think of it as spooky. Think of it as a neighbor clocking in after dark, doing its work while the rest of us head inside.

There are some birds you hear long before you see them. Others announce themselves with bright colors or a pretty song. Then there is the roadrunner, a bird most of us recognize from a quick glimpse across a county road, a flash of tail along a fence line or the unmistakable sight of a long-legged bird moving with purpose through the pasture.

The roadrunner also happens to be my mother’s favorite animal. No matter how many times she sees one, it never seems to get old. If one darts across the road or shows up along a fence line, she gets excited every time, as if it is some rare treat. I have come to understand why. There is something about a roadrunner that makes a person stop and pay attention. It is a little odd, a little comical and a whole lot tougher than its cartoon reputation ever gave it credit for.

The real bird is not just a desert runner with a famous call. It is a native predator, a skilled survivor and one of the more interesting birds found in Oklahoma.

The greater roadrunner, Geococcyx californianus, is a member of the cuckoo family, though it does not fit the delicate image many people may have of a cuckoo. This is a ground-dwelling bird built more for running than flying. It can fly when it needs to, but most of the time it would rather use its legs. Roadrunners have been reported running around 15 to 20 miles per hour, which is plenty fast enough to surprise a person when one darts across a road or disappears into brush.

In Oklahoma, roadrunners are most often associated with open country, grasslands, shrublands, fence rows, cedar breaks and pastures with enough cover to hunt and hide. They are more common in some parts of the state than others, but they are not limited to the desert image many people picture. A quiet gravel road, a brushy pasture edge or a sunny spot near a cedar thicket can all be good places to catch a glimpse of one.

At first glance, the roadrunner may look mostly brown and gray, but it is worth a closer look. Its mottled feathers help it blend into dry grass, brush and bare ground. The long tail is often held up or used like a rudder when the bird is running. The shaggy crest on its head gives it an alert, almost mischievous look. In the right light, its feathers can show more color and detail than a quick roadside sighting suggests.

One of the most distinctive things about a roadrunner is its feet. Like other members of the cuckoo family, roadrunners have zygodactyl feet, which means two toes point forward and two point backward. The track can look like an “X,” making it harder to tell which direction the bird was traveling. That unusual footprint has been part of Southwestern folklore for centuries, and it is easy to see why. Even its tracks seem to fit the bird’s mysterious, always-on-the-move personality.

While the cartoon version of the roadrunner made a living outsmarting coyotes, the real bird makes a living by hunting almost anything it can catch. Roadrunners are omnivores, but their diet is heavily made up of animal matter. They eat insects, grasshoppers, scorpions, centipedes, lizards, small snakes, small mammals, frogs, toads, eggs, young birds and carrion. They will also eat fruit and seeds, especially when animal prey is less available.

Their reputation for killing rattlesnakes is not just folklore. Roadrunners are known to take on venomous snakes, using speed, timing and repeated strikes to the head. They may also beat larger prey against the ground or a rock before swallowing it. As harsh as that sounds, it is part of what makes the roadrunner such an effective predator. This bird is not picky, and it is not easily intimidated.

That hunting ability can make roadrunners useful neighbors on farms, ranches and rural homesteads. They help control insects, rodents and reptiles, and they fill an important role in the food chain. Of course, they are not only predators. Roadrunners can also become prey for hawks, owls, raccoons, coyotes and other animals. The cartoon may have allowed the roadrunner to win every time, but in the real world, survival is never guaranteed.

Roadrunners have several adaptations that help them live in hot, dry country. Much of the water they need comes from the moisture in their prey. They also have ways to conserve energy and handle cool desert nights and chilly mornings. On cold nights, a roadrunner can lower its body temperature and become less active. In the morning, it may turn its back toward the sun and raise its feathers to expose a dark patch of skin that helps absorb heat. Anyone who has watched livestock, wildlife or even a barn cat find the first warm patch of sunshine can appreciate that strategy.

Their nesting habits are also interesting. Roadrunners often form long-term pairs, and both the male and female help with nesting and raising the young. Nests are usually built low in a tree, shrub, cactus or dense vegetation, often with sticks, twigs, grasses and other materials. The female typically lays several eggs, and both parents take part in incubation and feeding the chicks after they hatch.

Young roadrunners are not born ready to chase lizards across the pasture. Like many birds, they hatch helpless and depend on their parents for food and protection. After they leave the nest, they may continue to rely on the adults while learning to hunt. In a good year with plenty of food, roadrunners may raise more than one brood.

For all their toughness, roadrunners still depend on healthy habitat. Brushy cover, native grasses, insects, reptiles and small mammals all help support them. A perfectly manicured landscape does not offer much to a bird that hunts on the ground and needs places to hide, nest and ambush prey. On rural properties, leaving some natural cover, protecting native plant diversity and avoiding unnecessary pesticide use can benefit roadrunners and many other wildlife species.

Roadrunners are also a good reminder that Oklahoma wildlife does not have to be rare or dramatic to be remarkable. Some of the most interesting animals in the state are the ones we pass every day without thinking much about them. The bird that sprints across the road in front of the pickup is more than a familiar blur. It is a snake-hunting, sun-bathing, X-footed member of the cuckoo family that has figured out how to make a living in some unforgiving country.

Maybe that is why my mother loves them so much. A roadrunner sighting still feels like a small surprise, even in country where they belong. The greater roadrunner may not actually say “meep meep,” and it may not always outrun a coyote, but it has earned its reputation all the same. In Oklahoma, this long-tailed bird is part predator, part survivor and part roadside surprise, and that makes it worth watching for.