Sticks are not the easiest to take photographs of -- and not the easiest to admire in photographs, for that matter. But there is something remarkably fun in having your neighbors walk by as you dig a big hole in the ground and then put in... a stick.
Here's my Texas Ash stick. We (and by we I mean my husband) dug a hole among the roots of one of our ancient Arizona Ash trees, the idea being that the Texas Ash will one day take the place of the non-native, way-past-mature Arizona Ash trees that were probably planted the same year the house was built. My job was dealing with the Texas Ash's encircling roots, which I discovered upon removal of the plastic planter. What a tangled, sad, sad mess. I ended up having to cut quite a few of those roots so they wouldn't lead to the tree strangling itself. I'm counting on the hardiness of the Texas Ash to recover.
For the birds, I chose a Red Mulberry tree. Plant in hand, I walked around the yard looking for a perfect spot. It turned out that the perfect spot was near our yard's other Mulberry tree, which I'd apparently forgotten we'd had. Ah well, the more the merrier!
The Red Mulberry already has just a few leaves showing themselves, and a bug nymph stopped by for a visit.
And who wouldn't want this adorable Mexican Buckeye? The challenge here is not stepping on it. I'll need to put a cage around it else I manage to do just that.
Aside from budgetary reasons, the reason I plant small trees is that they have a better chance of adapting to Texas' inconsistent water conditions and extreme temperatures than larger trees do. Their roots will grow where they find nutrients and space, instead of circling around each other because of forced confinement, like the Texas Ash we bought rescued.
Sticking with small plants also allows me to increase native diversity while keeping costs low. And I'm patient, knowing they'll take a while to grow. I'm mostly patient, that is.
Though I primarily grow natives from Central Texas, of course, I'm experimenting with a couple of species that belong more in southern Texas, mainly because global warming is affecting our hardiness zone. A hard freeze might cause some dieback, but as I said, it's an experiment. Mexican Olive is one I'm very excited about, if it makes it.
Among other Texas plants new to the yard, we added American Smoke Tree, as well as the shrubs Berlandier's Wolfberry (it has thorns!), Coralbean, Narrow-Leaf Forestiera, and probably a couple of others I'm forgetting.
I keep saying that I have no more room for trees, and I really do think that if all these trees grow as planned, I'll likely be at that point almost officially (I have one or two more remaining on my wishlist). Well, there's always room for more understory trees....
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But first I've got to show off something I'm super-thrilled about -- the Lime Prickly Ash lives! It dropped its leaves for the winter and then the dogs knocked it completely out of the ground (mom was not a happy camper). Fortunately, it was crazy cold that day and I was able to get it back in the ground fairly quickly, hoping desperately that the little guy was fully dormant. Well, thank goodness -- the leaves, they be a'coming! We have extra boulders now surrounding the Prickly Ash -- hopefully the dogs will heed the barrier.
As you can see, it needs it! 
Here's a sample of the Gregg's Mistflower seedlings popping up all over their bed. In other beds, I'm getting to play the "Name That Seedling" game. I did see Standing Cypress and Purple Coneflower, a few Poppies, and maybe even a Gayfeather. There are other plants that will just have to grow bigger and maybe even bloom before I'll be able to ID them. That's the fun of spreading an assortment of seeds around -- you don't know what's going to germinate! 
She is a corn snake, one that is an anerythristic motley (meaning she lacks red pigmentation and has that dotted pattern you see on her dorsal side). She likes to climb and explore, but she is also content to entwine herself through your fingers or to wrap around your wrist until you have a serpentine bracelet. 
He's most content staying on the ground, of course, and he moves quite comfortably on a relatively flat surface. And so we named our legless pet Walker, after MUCH deliberation, discussion, voting, and compromise between members of my family. A little bribing might have happened, too -- hey, we know how politics work! For the record, Walker is his last name -- now we're deliberating, discussing, and so forth on the initials that will someday be in front of his name. 
I know there are too many pine cones in this wonderful bounty for one wildlife-loving family to use. I'll likely share some with the kids I work with and with other wildlife gardeners, so they can make their own feeders. I've decided, though, that the giant pine cone shall remain peanut-butter free. It will be too much fun to show it to kids at a nature talk.
Here's Great Stems' 12 Days of Christmas song, inspired by our Winter 2011 wildlife:
Black-Necked Stilt
A Least Tern periodically hovered in the sky near us. It was quite vocal, too.
My poor plant, formerly known as "quite large," has very few leaves left on it! Now I have to worry about the little caterpillars running out of food. My babies!
