Why the RHS is wrong about wasps…

The RHS is sticking to it’s story that wasps are beneficial insects…

From my own observations I would say that any positive contribution to the garden (and possibly the wider environment too) is outweighed by the harm they do. Firstly, they eat beneficial animals as well as pests. What’s more, they will kill anything that gets in their way. I’ve witnessed the mass murder of hoverflies and bees, with deaths in the hundreds, apparently because the wasps won’t tolerate competition for nectar from the plants they visit.

My own observation suggests wasps are not significant pollinators – more likely to eat flowers than to pollinate them (particularly roses). They were certainly nowhere to be seen when my fruit trees were in blossom, so did nothing to help generate the copious amounts of apples, pears, plums and damsons that formed. But now, before much of the fruit is even close to ripening, they’re systematically destroying the harvest…

The RHS says ‘damage to plants is limited, and mainly occurs in late summer…’ Limited’? They should see the state of my apples! And it’s not late summer yet. Maybe they’re out earlier because of the warm, dry weather in June (remember that?)

The same happened last year. I’ve taken action, through the organic method of using traps – glass jars with a piece of paper over the top, with a wasp-sized hole in it. The idea is the wasps go into the jar to get to the treat inside, and end up drowning in it…

The RHS suggested using a mixture of jam and water, and I’ve found this works well. The first jar caught perhaps fifty wasps. I tried beer, but while it caught some wasps, it was more attractive to flies and moths. For the latest refill, I’ve used a mixture of beer and jam (the wasp version of alco-pop?) As you can see, I’ve used foil, rather than paper, as it’s waterproof. There’s some question as to whether these traps actually attract more wasps, but I felt I had to try something, or there won’t be any apples left.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they chose one apple at a time, but of course, they wouldn’t dream of being so considerate. Instead, they burrow into numerous apples at a time which, in no time, start to go rotten before the wasps have made more than a small hole. At which point, they move on to fresh apples. So you can see, the entire crop is at risk.

‘Expert’ opinion generally seems to be that wasps will only sting if threatened. The trouble is, they seem to have a very low threat perception threshold. Get too close when they’re in the act of stealing your food (whether from your plate, the kitchen, or the orchard), and you’re seen as a threat.

Wasps are aggressive, irritable creatures, with a vindictive streak. Last year we were inundated with nests. The patio at the end of the garden was a no go area. We took our lives in our hands when we took garden or food waste to the compost. And even if we were lucky enough to get in or out of the front door without being stung, opening the door would let another half-a-dozen or so into the house. Eventually we succumbed, and called in the council pest controller.

I will just say (and I probably should have said it earlier), that not all wasps are the same. It’s the so-called ‘social’ wasps – Vespula species (otherwise known as ‘yellow jackets’) – that are the troublemakers. There are many species of solitary wasps which are not so troublesome. You wouldn’t want to be their prey mind. Many of them inject their eggs into the prey (often a caterpillar). The eggs hatch out, and the wasp larvae slowly eat the host from the inside out. While it’s still alive! That said, they don’t, as far as I’m aware, cause damage to plants, or harass us humans. Their pest control activities make them useful garden predators. Although many will eat spiders, which are very much a gardener’s friend. But then, no-one’s perfect…

text & images © graham wright 2023

The Joy of a Plant Delivery

Eager to get the main structural plants for the garden in the ground and growing, we decided not to wait until the ground was prepared, but to order the plants straight away. Impetuous? Certainly. Foolhardy? Perhaps. We hope to be living in this house for the foreseeable future, so what’s the rush? We’ve already bought and planted the bare-rooted specimens – beech hedging, and six fruit trees for our mini orchard. A few days ago we received a delivery from Burncoose nursery

Actually, looking at the picture, it doesn’t look like that much! In fact, there’s the potential for a lot of plant material there. The plants were well packaged, arrived intact, and look like good, strong, healthy specimens. Two fastigiate (tall and thin!) beech trees (Fagus sylvatica ‘Dawyck’, and ‘Dawyck Purple’) will be tall focal points, giving the garden height, lush foliage, and great autumn colour. Two purple-leaved hazels (Corylus maxima ‘Purpurea’) will have large, dark leaves and can be coppiced every few years to provide hazel sticks for supporting beans, etc., or for fire wood. And, if we’re lucky, we might get some hazel nuts from them too.

A viburnum (Viburnum plicatum f. tomentosum ‘Mariesii’) will become a large shrub with fresh green foliage, horizontally tiered branches (a bit like a wedding cake tree) and will be smothered in masses of white flowers each spring.

Cornus kousa var. chinensis will grow into a small, spreading tree, covered in large white flowers (in fact, they’re bracts – the flowers are tiny and at the centre of the circle of bracts). It also has good autumn colour, and will make a great focal point, viewed through the metal pergola we’ve just finished putting up…

Of course the pergola will need plants to climb over it. So we got ourselves started with a chocolate vine (Akebia quinata) which has dark flowers that smell of chocolate (hence the name).

Akebia quinata (photo courtesy of Crocus on-line nursery)

Clearing spaces in the borders where these plants will go is going to keep us busy for a while. Here’s a large patch we did earlier. There’s plenty more to do.

And to end on a prettier note; the Viburnum x burkwoodii we brought with us in a pot is full of flower at the moment. The fragrance is delicious…

text & photos (except akebia) © Graham Wright 2020

Up the Garden Path

This is the back garden as it was mid December last year, when we moved in, laid mostly to lawn, and dominated by a straight central path cutting the space in two.

We’ve got a working plan now. It isn’t quite finalised, but I’m confident it’s close enough that we can prepare the ground where the trees will go before it’s too late to get them in. Trees are generally much cheaper when bought bare rooted, but this can only be done in the dormant season, and they have to be planted within a few days of being lifted out of the ground. The path had to go. Here it is after I was half way through taking it out (taken 25th Feb):

The bed on the left is also going, so I’ve been taking the plants out and moving them to the nursery bed.

Work has been progressing smoothly, as and when I can fit it in. As you can see here, the chickens have wasted no time in annexing the bare earth as a dust bath:

This was the state of play as of 7th March, with all of the concrete and gravel removed, and the paving slabs left loose for the time being, so we have something to walk on:

I had hoped the slabs and gravel were laid on membrane over compacted soil, but I was to be disappointed. It’s been a long time since the old pick axe has seen that much action, and I’m left with a huge amount of rubble that will need to be removed at some point (I may be able to use some of it under paths and patios elsewhere).

You may just have noticed we’ve planted some trees in the grass. The design I came up with has a mini orchard, set with six fruit trees – 2 apples, 2 pears, a plum and a damson. I’m aiming to turn the grass into wild flower meadow, with a mown path curving through the trees to a patio at the end, under the large birch tree. In total so far we’ve planted 9 trees, and 100 hedging plants. And there will be more to come.

I’ll sign off, for now, with this month’s centrefold; the lovely Lola, sprawled on a bed. Calm yourselves…

Text & Images © Graham Wright 2020