Tag Archives: pests

Roses, At Last…

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It’s been a long time coming, but finally we have roses blooming in the garden. I don’t know why it’s taken so long. We’re quite exposed – the wind blows in across the open fields of North Shropshire. But there’s a native hedge, with hawthorn, blackthorn, crab apple, and others, around the garden. Before we moved here it had been kept cut back to around a metre and a half high, but we’ve let it grow up and fill out, so it should be providing good shelter. This isn’t the warmest area in the country, but neither is it among the coldest. And other plants are no later than elsewhere (fruit trees, for instance). Maybe it’s the soil – dusty, sandy soil wouldn’t be the first choice for a discerning rose. Never mind, they’re here now. This is ‘Gertrude Jekyll’…

And below is ‘Munstead Wood’, another David Austin Rose, though for some reason the company have discontinued it. A shame, because, as you can see, it’s a lovely rose, with a rich burgundy that’s difficult to find elsewhere. I really must try taking some cuttings (don’t tell David Austin!) These pictures were taken during a period of prolonged, mostly heavy rain yesterday, hence the blooms are looking a little sad (wouldn’t you be too?)…

For the past two seasons we’ve had problems with the flowers on our roses. Something, I suspect, is attacking the buds, Sometimes the tops appear to have been nibbled away, so they don’t come out properly. With others, there’s a more fundamental level of damage which results in a completely distorted (often quite small) flower. The yellow rose in the front garden was particularly badly affected last year. Every flower it produced had ragged petals. I’ve yet to identify the culprits. It could be wasps – they’ve been known to munch on rosebuds or, more likely, earwigs – we get a lot of those. But I haven’t caught either of these red-handed. In fact, I’ve not seen any pests actively attacking buds, either during the day, or at night. I’ve not found anything in my mini horticultural library (i.e., my gardening books!) that helps. I may have to ask the RHS (members can contact them for help with specific problems). I pruned off most of the damaged buds and flowers without thinking to take photos, but I managed to find a few that don’t look right this morning. This is a red climbing rose that wasn’t affected last year…

This is a damaged bud doing its best to open on ‘Gertrude Jekyll’…

And this is on the yellow rose (it pre-dates my time in the garden, so I don’t know the variety)…

If any of you have ideas about what might be causing the damage, I’ve love to hear them. It’s always a shame when plants are attacked. But I guess that’s just the way nature works. We have to try and create a balance in the garden and then hope for the best.

Climbing rose ‘Lady of the Lake’

text & photos © graham wright 2024

Trouble with Rabbits…

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The gardening elite are increasingly stressing the importance of making our gardens accessible to, and beneficial for, wildlife. It’s a trend I’m pleased to support, because for too long us humans have been working against nature, and to the detriment of the environment (and ultimately, against our own welfare). With so much of the wider landscape being so inhospitable to indigenous creatures, our domestic gardens can potentially make up a vital network of nature reserves.

We should aim to create a balance in our gardens; a good mix of wildlife so that populations of pests are kept in check – we accept limited damage to our plants, in return for a diverse ecosystem, and a healthier environment.

All well and good, but for some wildlife, it’s not that simple. Some of the larger animals are really not compatible with our ideas of what makes a garden. Badgers can make an awful mess of a lawn. Deer will eat almost anything; including tree bark. And so will rabbits.

This is the first year we’ve had significant problems with rabbits, which is surprising considering we have farmland on three sides. Maybe it’s something to do with the regular sound of gunshots that ring out across the fields. That, or the foxes. Or the buzzards. This year though, I’ve noticed more rabbits down the lane. When I saw an adult rabbit on the lawn, I set about putting up fencing to keep them out. There were already various sizes of wire mesh fence around the boundary, in among the mixed field hedges. I added chicken wire, burying it as deep as I could to stop the bunnies from digging under. This seemed to work. Until one day I looked out and there were two baby rabbits! Here’s a shot from the 14th April, with one of the babies munching its way through self-seeded honesty…

Incredibly cute, but very destructive! I blocked up numerous points where they might be getting in. But nothing worked. And when I went out to chase them away, they would disappear, as if into thin air. And then, one day, I watched as one of them ran through my chicken wire fence as if it wasn’t there. It turns out a 50mm mesh isn’t fine enough!

I’ve been intermittently bolstering our defences, each time hopeful that I’ve finally done enough to keep them out… quickly to discover I’ve been unsuccessful. There’s just one, very persistent rabbit now. How ever much I try chasing him away, he never gets the message. Someone suggested buying an air rifle, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that; just look at him…

And yet, as the damage is mounting (raspberry canes, dogwood, the lower shoots and branches of the akebia (chocolate vine), sweet peas…) my inner Elmer Thud is straining to get out!

The rabbit is in the garden so much of the time (and active during the day – I thought they were largely nocturnal?) I’m wondering if there isn’t any point in sealing the garden – he’d be quite happy to live there permanently. There’s lot’s of cover to protect him from the buzzards, and no danger of been shot by the nasty farmer.

And if I am able to find where he’s getting in, when I seal it, how can I be sure he’s out, rather than in, the garden? I’ve had to put tree guards around the trunks of all of the trees. If the rabbit just ate the grass, he’d be welcome to share the garden.

I’m really not sure what to do next. Do I take away all the fences so that he can at least get out easily? Or will he just invite his friends round to join the party? Should I just accept that I’ll need to move towards plants that are largely rabbit proof?

If anyone has any ideas, I’d be very grateful…

text & images © graham wright 2023

The Curious Incident of the Earwig in the night time…

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When your plants come under attack, it isn’t always easy to identify the culprits.

Our runner bean wigwam, under-planted with courgettes

We’ve had a lot of damage to plants this year, including the runner beans. They flowered, but no beans were forming. At first, I blamed the sparrows, with which we’re inundated, and which I know were destroying our spinach and chard (until we covered them with mesh). The sparrows were all over the beans too. But then I remembered when, a few years back, I’d grown the most glorious wigwam of sweet peas; as full, healthy and lush as anyone could wish for. But without a single flower. It wasn’t until I went out at night with a torch that I realised why: they were crawling with earwigs.

Flowers but no beans!

Another night-time foray showed it’s the same case with the runner beans. Flowers come out, the earwigs eat them, and no beans form. How do you deal with these tricky little varmints? Well, you can go out at night and pick them off, but they tend to scarper as soon as you start, and you’ve only got one hand to try and catch them with while you’re holding the torch.

Earwig nesting box!

An easier way is to put a plant pot stuffed with straw on top of the canes. The earwigs crawl up into the pot at the end of the night, thinking it’s a nice cosy, safe place to hide out during the day. Oh the naivety! Come daylight we tip out the pot and… well, you can guess the rest. Nightly hauls have varied between one and eleven. Hopefully we can get the numbers down sufficiently to give the beans a chance to do their thing, and provide us with a harvest.

The residents evicted into a plant tray

Many garden pundits will try to tell you earwigs are good to have in the garden, because they predate pests like greenfly. The reality is that not even the heaviest infestation of green or blackfly will leave you with no crop at all. A moderate infestation will do little damage, and provide food for other, less destructive predators, like birds, hoverflies and ladybirds. Earwigs may control aphids, but if they deprive you of a crop – either edible or ornamental – how are they helping? Aphids will at least share the spoils!

In my experience earwigs, like that other favourite of the so-called experts, the wasp, do far more harm than good.

text & images © graham wright 2022

The Trouble with Wasps…

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Anyone who’s ever eaten outside in the summer will know that wasps can be a problem. The wasps we see most are the social wasps (Vespula species); the ones that make large nests, generally where you don’t want them. A few years a ago I had a nest in my compost heap. I didn’t empty out the compost until they’d gone, and it was only then I discovered they’d excavated a hole the size of a bucket. Sometimes when I went to the compost bin a wasp would fly out of the nest entrance straight into my forehead, bounce off and then carry on around me, but they never really bothered me. But if they identify you as a threat, then you’re in trouble!

Comings and goings at the nest entrance

There’s currently a nest in ‘the hill’ – the mound of earth and rocks behind the pond. The hill is due to be removed, as it doesn’t feature on my garden design (a free-draining rockery with alpine plants doesn’t sit well by a pond), but I’ll probably not get around to that until after the nest has been vacated, so the intention is to live and let live. I’ve only been stung once so far. Apart from trying to help themselves to our lunch, they haven’t been too much trouble. But I’ve been removing a large and decrepit patio, and one day the vibrations from my pick axe must have disturbed them, because the next moment I’d dropped the pick axe and was running back to the house, waving my arms about like an idiot.

My RHS Pests and Diseases book tells me wasps can be a significant pest because they eat fruit – apples, pears, plums and berries. It doesn’t mention that they also eat rose buds. I first noticed this while volunteering at Dyffryn gardens in the Vale of Glamorgan. In my garden there are currently only two roses. The red climbing rose by the chicken run has escaped unscathed, but the yellow rose, which is currently by the compost heap (but due to be moved soon) is closer to the nest. In June and July the blooms were fine. But then the wasps started to munch on the buds. Ever since, very few buds have made it to be flowers, and those that have are raggedy.

One of the roses that made it – not much to look at.

The book also says that wasps are important predators of garden pests (illustrated by a nice picture of a wasp carrying off a vine weevil). Which is fine as far as it goes, but I know wasps don’t just kill pests, but beneficial insects such as pollinators too. In fact, they’re the only insect I’ve seen killing for reasons other than to eat. I once had an old ivy tree that was a magnet for insects when in flower. One year the whole of the crown was alive with flying insects. On closer inspection I saw a scene of carnage, because the wasps, rather than share the feast with bees and hoverflies of all kinds, had decided to see off the competition. It was a mini massacre. Each wasp would grab its victim – be it hoverfly, honey bee, bumble bee, etc. and sting it repeatedly. Killer and victim, neither able to fly while in the deadly embrace, would fall to ground together. After a short moment the wasp would rise up to look for it’s next target, leaving the unfortunate victim in it’s death throes. The ground became thick with dead pollinators.

I have to admit to a grudging respect for wasps – in a world where the fittest survive, they are far and away the fittest. Solitary wasps, many of which are plain black rather than with the danger-warning yellow stripes, are just as tough. In my last garden I would regularly see them fly down, grab a woodlouse spider (which is a fearsome looking beast and, apparently, one of the few British spiders with fangs that can pierce human skin), casually sting it to death and then carry it off to its lair. Parasitic wasps lay their eggs inside the bodies of other organisms (such as caterpillars). When the eggs hatch out they feed on the poor creature’s insides; literally eating it alive. Everything’s got to live somehow, I know, but to me, that’s just plain wrong!

Wasp nests tend to finish in the autumn – having sent out new queens to find places to hibernate, the rest of the wasps die. I’m hoping that will happen soon with our nest, so I can get on with the work around the pond.

text & photos © Graham Wright 2020