Archives for posts with tag: insects

When you’re a gardener, it’s reassuring to know that you have friends.

Friends such as earthworms (the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinochle on your snout…).

Not to mention the pollinators, by which I mean mainly the bees.

Also nice—and quite beautiful—are the butterflies and hummingbirds.

Frogs are friends of the garden as well; they eat plenty of harmful insects.

And then there are dragonflies. I’m not sure if they are beneficial or merely benign but they’re not harmful, definitely. Also, they are curious and always seem genuinely interested in whatever I am doing.

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I came down to the garden this morning to weed. I had the three things I needed (see May 17, 2014): good conditions (rain two days ago; sunny and warm today); good tools (my two bare hands); and a good mood (what a pleasant way to spend an hour or two after breakfast).

My task was simple and clear and the scope of work small and well-defined (another important element of successful weeding). We’ll be setting out the tomatoes, eggplant, bell peppers and summer squash later and I needed only to clear the raised beds and soil mounds of the weeds that inevitably (and spontaneously, it seems) appear in any fertile soil.

This would not be difficult weeding (no dandelions, for instance) and no tools would be required other than my hands. So, why did I end up with a tabletop covered with artifacts?

Well, first there was the coffee mug I brought down with me. It was not strictly necessary but I enjoy coffee in the morning and if I can do something else and drink coffee at the same time, why not?

Then there was the waste bucket. I can’t just throw the pulled weeds on the ground, can I?

Next came the sunblock and insect repellent. Gardening is one of those activities that easily leads to sunburn, especially on such a nice morning and while the temperature is still cool. Also, we humans are not the only ones who enjoy the great outdoors; the bugs were out in legion.

While weeding the east planter, where the peas and root vegetables are already growing, I remembered that I ought to treat the Sugar Snap peas to ward off aphids. Out came the herbal spray.

At about the same time, I came up with the idea for this blog. That meant fetching a pad of paper and a pencil (my favorite way to write when it is practical) and, of course, the camera (what would a blog be without photos?). A second trip back to the basement became necessary when I realized (for the umpteenth time) that I cannot read or write anything without my glasses.

I jotted down some ideas and moved on to the west planter. After a few minutes of gently pulling out the hay that had sprouted there, my nose began to itch. The result? Back inside for a tissue. (Thankfully, the allergens were not so bad that I needed an antihistamine. That would have meant a trip upstairs to the medicine cabinet.)

I finished the west planter and turned my attention to the squash mounds. As I bent down to start weeding, what did I spy but an anchor for the pool cover that had gone missing during the pool’s opening two weeks ago. (What a relief! I was not looking forward to getting it replaced.) I tried screwing it back into its insert (in the concrete pool deck) but I couldn’t really get a grip on it.

So I reluctantly returned to the toolbox to retrieve the large Allen wrench that came with the pool cover and was explicitly designed for this purpose. On returning, though, I found that the anchor would still not twist into its sleeve. Even more reluctantly, I retraced my steps back to the toolbox for lubricant.

Anyway, you get the idea.

By the time I had finished with the diversion and was ready to get back to weeding, the day had warmed and my coffee had cooled. It was time for a drink of water—and yes, another trip inside.

Just when you think you’ve had everything dealt to you and just when you think you’ve dealt with it all; just when you think there couldn’t possibly be another plant disease or chomping insect or marauding animal that you haven’t seen; just when you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve got a few things figured out and maybe, just maybe, you have everything under control; well, that’s when Mother Nature serves you up something new and unexpected.

I’m exaggerating a bit, of course, and we have had a successful and relatively uneventful year in the garden.  But after morning inspection and a nice swim, I looked over to the east planter and saw a pile of what looked like sawdust at one corner, clear evidence of carpenter ants.  These guys aren’t after our vegetables or even the leaves or soil.  No, it is the planter itself that they are eating.  Well, strictly speaking they don’t eat the wood but they do tunnel through it.  If left unchecked, the ants’ nesting will weaken the boards, accelerate their natural decay and eventually lead to their crumbling (structural engineers these ants are not).

When carpenter ants appear around the house, I sprinkle a few teaspoons of poison in their path which, if I am lucky, they take back to the nest and share with their siblings.  With further luck (and so far, so good), the colony dies.  This is one of the few occasions where I will resort to nasty chemicals—potentially, the integrity of the house depends on it.  I have never needed much nor needed it very often and our accumulated exposure has been relatively low.

Unfortunately, I can’t use any poison in the planter.  Granted, the carpenter ant infestation appears to be well below the vegetables (at the bottom of the planter) but it is very possible that the plants’ roots have extended that deeply.  Even if not, I do not want any dangerous chemicals that close to our food.  After all, I chose to use untreated lumber to build the planters; using a chemical pesticide would not be consistent with that philosophy.

So, what to do?  It’s not like I can ask them to leave.

On the other hand, maybe I can give them a reason to leave.

I brought the hose over to the nest’s entrance and set the sprayer to “jet”.  Then I placed the nozzle directly against the side of the planter—point blank range—and turned the water on full.  Any tunnels, caverns or shafts that the ants had created should have been instantly flooded, and possibly collapsed.  At least, I certainly hope so.

Problem solved?  We shall see.

Trees are a treasure, a joy to have around.  They provide a habitat for birds, insects and other critters; act as a buffer against wind, rain and snow; and are the main generator of atmospheric oxygen and consumer of carbon dioxide.  Plus, they are beautiful to behold.  If they are not the focus of a picturesque view, they are probably framing it.

But sometimes they get in the way.  Usually, this is merely an annoyance, such as when they block the view (see, for example, August 12, 2013).  Other times, though, trees can block solar exposure, often to detrimental effect.  I’ve become painfully aware of this phenomenon in the garden as the summer has wound down.

I noticed this morning, for instance, that the garden is still in the shade long after 8:00 am, the hour at which it came into full sun at summer’s peak.  Two months after the summer solstice, however, the sun is already quite a bit lower in the sky and as a result, the tall trees to the east of us are obstructing its direct rays.  It is light in the early morning but it is not exactly sunny.

Similarly, this afternoon, the tips of the fir trees on our neighbor’s property, just to the southern side of our pool fence, are casting a shadow on the south wall of the planters.  The inclination of the sun will only get lower as the days pass while the trees will only get taller with each passing year.  Soon, the shadows will pass across the vegetables shortly after midday, further shortening the growing day.

This is in spite of the fact that we removed two large trees in the spring (see May 17, 2013 and May 17, 2013, part 3).  Their absence has made a huge difference in the garden’s afternoon sun exposure but as it turns out, the impact’s duration is limited to the period starting a month before the solstice until a month afterwards.  Outside of that two-month range, we will feel the effects of the changes in solar exposure in the house more than in the garden.

Which brings us around to the beneficial aspects of solar shielding (to end on a positive note, lest anyone think that I am hostile to trees).  In warm climates, properly placed trees prevent solar gain within buildings and reduce their cooling load.  Where the weather is warm the year round, evergreen trees maintain a constant screen.  Alternately, where winters are cold, deciduous trees conveniently drop their leaves, allowing solar radiation to pass and provide natural heating.