The June Garden

Ah, June, that time of year when all the flowers start growing almost as fast as the weeds!  It's almost hard to keep up with the rapid successions of blooms.  (Of course, it's even harder to keep up with the weeds.)

my, ahem, slightly weedy front garden

But here is the time to appreciate those treasures found in the garden!  The beginning of June is announced by the blooming of the baptisia.  What started out as a small seedling given to me three years ago by a fellow gardener is now a good-sized bush, packed to the hilt with purple blooms.

Baptisia

After the baptisia, the irises, lupines, peonies, and yarrow continue the show...

...which is stolen by the roses, daisies, and coneflowers by the end of June,

along with the coreopsis, rose campion, and primroses, among others.

the hellstrip in full bloom

One of my favorite plants is clematis, so each year I keep adding one or two more to the garden, and I always look forward to their blooming.  One of the first that I planted, Betty Corning, is now big enough to climb up and around the fence.  It is known for being one of the very few fragrant clematis, but it really quite stingy with its fragrance - one has to get quite close to smell anything.

Clematis 'Betty Corning'

Lemon Bells is one of my newest clematis that I just planted this spring.  Ultimately opening into a yellow bell-shaped  flower with a wine-colored top, the first bud is already showing promise.

Also new to the garden this year are seedlings of Arkwright's Campion

and the blue-flowering Allium caeruleum, which I just had to get for my blue and gold garden.

Allium caeruleum

And let's not forget the edibles!  I didn't grow any early spring greens this year, so the first provisions out of the garden were rhubarb, garlic scapes, and snow peas.

the veggie garden

 Raspberries are starting to ripen, and the big strawberry plants have completely taken over one of my flower beds. (Note to self: move strawberry plants to somewhere where they can have free rein and go wild.)  My lower-growing alpine strawberries seems much more suited as a groundcover that can play well with flowers; currently they have formed a nice low patch in front of the veggie garden.

tiny alpine strawberries

This time of year, every day is a treasure hunt in the garden for my kids.

Of course, the garden is always a treasure hunt for me.

There's always something new to find...

And then again, sometimes those new things find me.

Mortimer the mouse, who turned out to be Mortimina.

Happy gardening!

The Last Daffodil and What Eats It

This week temperatures have skyrocketed, but until recently it's been quite a cool (and sometimes downright chilly!) spring.  The last daffodil in my collection to bloom this year, Narcissus 'Actaea', flowered for over three weeks from mid-May through the end of last week.

Narcissus 'Actaea' - last daffodil bloom this year

The winding down of daffodil season, however, is when the fight to save my daffodils steps up.   In May and early June is when the critters that eat them come out to play.  And just what eats daffodils, the bulb that is impervious to almost every other garden pest around, you might wonder?

the Narcissus Bulb Fly

Frank from the garden blog Sorta Like Suburbia first told me about this fly, whose larvae burrows into the bulb and eats the middle of it, weakening or killing the plant.  After a quick google search, I knew I had seen this fly in my garden.  (Thank you, Frank!)  It's a good-sized fly whose various colorations mimic bumblebees, and when it flies it makes a distinctive whining sound.

Narcissus Bulb Fly

The adult flies emerge in late spring/early summer and live for 2 to 3 weeks.  I often see them around my flowers on sunny days this time of year, feeding on nectar and pollen.

After mating, the female flies lay anywhere from 40 to 100 eggs each at the base of suitable plants, one to three eggs per plant.  That's a lot of infested plants!  They usually lay eggs on daffodils, but they will also infest snowdrops, hyacinth, iris, lilies, amaryllis, and tulips, among others.

Narcissus Bulb Fly laying egg at base of daffodil leaves

After a few days the eggs will hatch and a larvae will wriggle down the outside of each bulb to feed on the basal plate that is on the bottom of the bulb.  It then bores into the middle of the bulb to feed on it, hollowing out the middle of the bulb as it grows larger and larger.  The larvae overwinters inside the bulb, and in early spring it pupates for a month or two (either inside the bulb or in nearby topsoil), finally emerging as an adult fly.

Of course, this usually spells disaster for the plant.  Sometimes the larvae's damage won't totally kill the bulb, and it will be able to send out small leaves and slowly recover over the next two or three years.  Unfortunately oftentimes the bulb is destroyed beyond recovery.

Thus I have been busy fighting these pests for the last weeks.  The Narcissus Bulb Fly is a tough fly to control.  Some people have luck using systemic insecticides, however I try to garden as organically as possible.  Daffodil growers often use hot water bath treatments to kill larvae from Bulb Flies and other pests.  To do this, after the leaves have died back, dig up bulbs that might be infested and submerge them in hot water that is 109° to 111° F (42°-44° C) for one hour.  The heat will kill the larvae; just make sure to avoid higher temperatures that cook the bulb!

I go for a slightly less complicated route - I become a Fly Hunter for the few weeks that they are out in the garden.  I am out gardening quite a bit this time of year, so I garden with a butterfly net handy.  I listen out for the familiar whine when gardening and often check the flowers that they particularly frequent.   When I see a Narcissus Bulb Fly, I swoop the net on top of it.  The fly usually flies straight up to the top of the net, so I then carefully gather the material around the fly and bring it somewhere I can stomp on and kill it.  So far this year I've killed about two dozen flies.

Here's hoping that it's enough to save most of my daffodils.

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The Pink Spotted Ladybug

A couple weeks ago I had a very special visitor to the Red House Garden.

Pink Spotted Ladybug

On one of my miniature daffodils was a Coleomegilla maculata, also known as the Pink Spotted Lady Beetle or the Twelve-spotted Lady Beetle.

Coleomegilla maculata

Many cultures believe that ladybugs are a sign of good luck and prosperity, and I believe it about this particular ladybug.  What's so special about it?  It's the first ladybug I've seen in my garden that is actually native to this area.

While native ladybugs used to be quite common, they are now being outcompeted by non-native ladybugs.  If I see a ladybug here, it is usually an Asian Ladybug, aka Harlequin Ladybird.  Larger than most of our native species, the Asian Ladybug is known for its huge appetite and was repeatedly introduced to the US for the control of aphids starting in the early 1900's.  An established population of these beetles were found in the wild near New Orleans in 1988, and since then they have spread swiftly.  Their appearance is very variable, but they often have what looks like an 'M' on the backs of their heads. 

Asian Ladybug

Asian Ladybugs outcompete native ones due to their voracious nature, their high resistance to disease, and the fact that they carry a microsporidian parasite that infects and kills other ladybugs but which they are immune to.  They are often considered pests due to their tendency to swarm to light-colored buildings (including my porch) in fall and and try to come indoors to hibernate for the winter.  They also give off a noxious odor and stain when frightened or crushed. 

Pink Spotted Ladybugs such as the one in my garden are native to Northeastern North America, the Midwest, and the Southwestern United States.  Its color can range from pink to orange or red.  They prey on aphids and other small insects, but the Pink Spotted Ladybug is unusual in that pollen may make up to 50% of its diet.  It is attracted to areas with dandelions and other pollen-rich weeds (maybe that's why it ended up in my yard?)

 Either way, I consider myself fortunate to have one of our native ladybugs in my garden, and I hope it will be so lucky as to lead to more!

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