2001 July 30 - Witness to Japanese Beetle Predators

The little fleas that do us tease, Have other fleas that bite 'em, And these in turn have other fleas, And so on, ad infinitum. --from the 22nd Annual Report of the Ohio State Horticultural Society What a great day! In the same morning I saw for the first time, two predators in the garden feeding on Japanese beetles. A while back I heard "The Rose Doctor", John Pottschmidt, M.D. suggest to someone that one way to reduce the Japanese beetle population in your garden is to attract cardinals who will in turn eat the beetles. I had never seen this and poo-pooed the idea. Today sitting at the breakfast table and watching the birds at the bird feeder, I witnessed a male cardinal perching in a nearby butterfly bush fly to an open bloom of the shrub rose 'Lafter', hover for a moment, and then peck something off the flower. My wife saw this also. It more-than-likely did snatch a Japanese beetle as I have found many on this rose of late.

(Dr. Steve Taylor of the Illinois Natural History Center has published this photo and others of predatory insects at http://www.inhs.uiuc.edu/~sjtaylor/reduviidae/ReduviidPics.html)

Later before heading off to the Cancer Center for work, I made quick rounds looking for more beetles to drown in my little white bucket of soapy water. I knocked one beetle off Rosa cinnamomea plena into the water and then stretched forward to hold the bucket under another beetle on a nearby cane. Just before knocking the beetle into the bucket, I noticed it was in the grasp of another much larger, gray-brown, prehistoric-looking beetle. What a coincidence?! Two beetle predators in one morning! I ran back to the house, through the kitchen, and upstairs to grab my camera, hoping the beetle-carnage was not over when I got back. It wasn't, and I got about twenty shots. The photo in the Audubon Field Guide revealed the beetle to be a "Wheel Bug" because of its "Prothorax raised into a curved series of coglike teeth along midline." Apparently this beetle, Arilus cristatus, not only feeds on Japanese beetles, but is "predaceous and feeds on a wide variety of insects including, among others, the fall webworm, Hyphantria cunea (Drury); imported cabbageworm, Pieris rapae (L.); Mexican bean beetle, Epilachna varivestis Mulsant (Thompson & Simmonds 1965); orangedog, Papilio cresphontes Cramer (Watson 1918); tent caterpillar, Malacosoma (Surface 1906); and bollworm, Helicoverpa zea (Boddie) (Whitcomb & Bell 1964)." see http://www.fcla.edu/FlaEnt/fe83p58.htm. Good thing I didn't try to hold this bug since "When disturbed, the wheel bug can inflict a painful bite. The bite has been described variously as worse than stings from bees, wasps, or hornets. Barber (1919) and Hall (1924) described in detail the effects of such bites. In general, initial pain often is followed by numbness for several days. The afflicted area often becomes reddened and hot to the touch, but later may become white and hardened at the puncture area. Occasionally, a hard core may slough off, leaving a small hole at the puncture site. Healing time varies but usually takes two weeks and may take half a year." see http://creatures.ifas.ufl.edu/trees/wheel_bug.htm You never know what you will find in the garden with your eyes wide open....just exercise a little caution if you decide to handle Wheel Bugs...

[Postscript 2001 August 1. This morning I discovered another (the same one?) Wheel Bug on Rosa cinnamomea plena with a Japanese beetle in its grasp.] [Postscript 2001 August 4. On 'Carefree Beauty' this morning I noticed another Wheel Bug devouring a Japanese beetle. The photo on the right is not upside down, the Wheel Bug was hanging underneath a spent blossom with the beetle.]

2001 July 22 - The Gallica that Isn't

Last April a year ago, my wife's Aunt Doris and Uncle Vernon gave us the best gift they could ever have given: two roses dug-up from "the old home" in northern Ohio. Aunt Doris described one as having tiny yellow flowers and the other a "Pink double or almost triple rose." I planted these two last spring, and no blooms were produced. This year the "triple" pink rose has grown to about two feet tall and wide and bloomed sparingly in early spring, bearing deep pink, small, double, fragrant blooms for a short while. This rose may be a gallica, since it was once blooming, I thought. A few days ago I noticed with delight more buds forming, and today I took a photo of one. Perhaps this small shrub is a portland? Maybe 'Rose de Rescht'.

2001 July 15 - Raccoons, Worms, and Frogs in the Garden

It seems that lately, most of my journal entries tell of creatures in the garden . But this is how it is, I wander around the garden and run into mammal, insect, and amphibian. Sometimes it is fascinating, and other times it is infuriating. Just before we went on vacation the last week of June, I planted five OGRs in a patch of virgin garden near the woods edge. This was an area near the south property border, where for the last three autumns I dumped the leaves sucked up by the lawn mower. The decaying leaves added to the rich soil and left it soft, dark, and crumbly. I planted "Glendora" (portland from Glendora, CA), Indigo, Mrs. Wm. Paul, Mme. Ernest Calvat, and Mme. Pierre Oger and congratulated myself for finally getting these potted roses in the ground before we left. They should do well there....were it not for the local band of raccoons. The first Saturday afternoon back from vacation, I found three of the five roses uprooted and cast aside on the ground near the freshly excavated hole. Thank God it was a damp and cloudy day. The roses were not wilted, so I dropped everything to rush and get them back in the ground. This was the handiwork of raccoons, I am sure.

Over the past two summers I have had to deal with these critters, and have trapped and released over a dozen in my Have-a-Heart cage/trap. Once I caught two of the varmints together. One of the two was young, vicious and loud, the other one was gray, quiet, and sure looked like it had cataracts in its cloudy, gray eyes. Two days after I re-planted the three uprooted roses, I found two had been dug up again and cast aside. Two others had some major excavation near them. Once again I hurriedly planted them back in their holes and repaired the damage. I found five round wire "cages", put them over the roses and staked the cages to the ground. Last summer someone stole my trap, so I made the trip to Home Depot and bought another trap that day. That night, using part of a hot dog as bait, I caught the rascal. Two nights later I caught another one. And the roses remain in their respective holes.

Making the rounds about a week ago I found this very interesting and hairy worm on 'Pink Meidiland'. I pulled it off the rose and set it on a large magnolia leaf to photograph. I wonder what it is. And last Saturday morning after a rain, resting on the still wet leaves of Rosa cinnamomea plena was a small frog. Perhaps this is the singer of the tree-frog songs we hear in evenings after a rainy day, spring and summer. The garden is replete with a wonderous variety of creatures.

[Postscript 2001 July 31. The hairy worm above is the caterpillar of the White-marked Tussock Moth which "At times the populations of any of these may become so large locally that these pests severely defoliate host trees." Audubon Field Guide.]

2001 July 5, 2001 - A Dearth of Bloom Timed for the Beetles

Very few roses are in bloom at present; those that are are precious. All of the once-blooming old and species roses finished their brief but glorious bloom cycle not quite two weeks ago. The last five non-repeat bloomers to finish their show were: two species roses - R. carolina (31 days in bloom) and R. rugosa rubra (47 days), two young Wichuraiana ramblers - 'Dorothy Perkins' (16 days) and an unknown red rambler, (14 days), and 'Chapeau de Napolean' (14 days in bloom). I did manage to cut a small bouquet for the house this evening, gathering flowers from 'Molineux', 'Queen Nefertiti', 'Rose de Rescht', 'Marbree', and 'Barn Dance'.  Of all the other roses I grow, these are the only other roses not in pots blooming now: 'Blaze', 'Wanderin' Wind', 'Summer Wind', 'Scarlet Meidiland', 'Pink Meidiland', 'Ballerina', 'The Fairy', 'Nearly Wild' 'F.J. Grootendorst', 'Pink Grootendorst', 'Reine des Violettes', 'Darlow's Enigma', 'Ghislane de Feligonde', 'Moonlight', 'Linda Campbell', 'Westerland', 'Perle d'Or', 'Knockout', and 'Cecille Brunner'. Most of the remontant roses are in-between bloom cycles at present.....Most fortunate!! Why? Because the Japanese beetles are at their peak infestation. The coordination of bloom and beetle results in far fewer disgusted moments in the garden than in years past. It is a very sad thing to see great numbers of flowers totally disfigured by the beetles. So I thank God for good timing this season, but still make rounds every morning and evening with my small container of soapy water to collect and drown as many loathsome beetles as I can scare up.

This evening, around 7 pm, I sent 91 beetles to a watery grave, of which 17 were found on one of their favorite roses, 'Pink Grootendorst'. Must be the color and shape of the bloom, because I can detect no fragrance. Another favorite of the beetles is 'Reine des Violettes', and even when not in bloom, the beetles congregate and munch on the leaves. Similarly for Rosa cinnamomea plena: there are never any blooms during the beetle attack, but I always find them on this rose. 'Golden Wings' will also attract beetles, even to the blooms that have lost their petals. In fact, to my nose, the floral scent of the bait used in the beetle traps smell very similar to 'Golden Wings'. Two other plants in my garden are big attractors of Japanese beetles: Chinese wisteria and ampelopsis brevipedunculata elegans(Porcelain berry vine). I removed a good sized porcelain berry vine last season because it attracted almost as many beetles as all the roses combined. One rose that seems to have very few beetles on it, even when in bloom is 'The Fairy'. I attribute this to no scent and no height to the plant. I have noticed beetles prefer high canes and blooms over lower ones. Given the exceptions mentioned above, I can make a few generalizations about the roses which attract the most Japanese beetles: 1. Any pink, fragrant rose seems to be most attractive to the beetles. 2. Then any other color, fragrant rose in bloom. 3. Any rose in bloom not fragrant can still attract beetles. 4. Once blooming ramblers, old, and species roses rarely attract beetles. I have tried the insecticides Sevin, Isotox, and Neem Oil in the battles against the beetles. None of these had any residual repellant effect, and I dreaded mixing and spraying the noxious chemicals. Seemed to be far more trouble than my present hand-picking-and-drowning-in-soapy-water technique. The sex lure and floral scented traps collected quite a few beetles all right, but I am convinced they attracted many more beetles to the garden than without them. I used them four years straight and only saw the beetle population increase each season. The last three years I have faithfully hand picked or knocked the beetles into soapy water. I think this season there are fewer beetles. So maybe, just maybe I am seeing the population dwindle through my efforts. Then again, maybe it's the weather.

2001 June 1, 2001 - Surprises in the Garden

Typically, when gardening is discussed, seldom does the word "surprise" enter the conversation. "What can possibly be the element of surprise in a garden?" Well, I love the unexpected in the garden, and if you keep your eyes and ears keen, it's all around. Sometimes the unforeseen is thrust upon you, literally. Like the time I moved a tripod (actually a quad-pod) made of cedar split-rails. One summer I grew morning glories up the quad-pod, the next I grew bird-house gourds. After the gourd-growth I set the quad-pod aside at the woods edge for a couple seasons. A few years back I received the wichuraiana rambler 'Alberic Barbier' in a trade, and the perfect location for this vigorous rose was climbing up the quad-pod. It was still covered with the remnants of the bird-house gourd vine, and I started pulling them off. At the top, where the four pieces of split-rail were tied together, there was what looked like bird's next. "Oh, that's nice" I thought and went on to plant 'Alberic Barbier' in the border. Then I commenced to move the quad-pod into position above the rose. As I hunched my shoulders directly beneath the rails and started dragging, half lifting the awkward structure, something fell from above and landed on my neck. Funny, it felt kind of furry and tickled my neck something fierce. I dropped the quad-pod and cleared the back of my neck off by flinging it into the weeds. "What was that!?" I bent down, pushed aside the weeds and saw a panting, wide-eyed, brown field mouse. He was as surprised as I had been. This evening two more surprises in the garden were my great pleasure to experience. With Felco pruners in hand, I was about to trim a small branch that hung too far over the garden path. It was on a wild "Burning Bush", Euonymous alatus, the birds planted about decade ago.

As I pulled down the branch, in the middle portion, sat this atypical big black "thing". When my bifocals adjusted my vision, to my astonishment the black "thing" was a large beetle with two huge white-ringed spots on its back that looked like eyes. This bug was fascinating. What a find! I ran up to the house to grab my camera, and called out to my wife "Come see this cool beetle I found!". She refused the invitation as I ran out the house hoping the beetle was still there. It hadn't moved. In the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Insects and Spiders, it was evident I had happened upon an Eastern Eyed Click Beetle or "Big Eyed Click Beetle", Alau oculatus. From the guide: "Click beetles get their names from the sharp clicking sound overturned beetles make when they flip themselves into the air, often landing upright. They accomplish this amazing feat by snapping a fingerlike spine on the underside of the thorax into a groove below the mesothorax."  Tomorrow I will look for this creature again and, if I'm fortunate, I'll turn him upside down and watch him click. Later this evening, with shovel in one had and potted Heuchera villosa in the other, I wandered down the path into the woods looking for a moist, shady spot for the perennial. I didn't get far until the rear end of a large deer flew up in front of me and ran down the path further into the woods. I hadn't expected that! The smooth, brown animal stopped about 15 yards away and bobbed its slender neck up and down as it peered through the woods at me. Huge ears bending this way and that were listening intently as I slowly walked along the path in the direction of the deer. When I was within 10 yards the animal turned and thrashed away, loping over an old fence. It munched some more and then trotted off. I had seen tracks near roses that had the flower buds eaten, and I wondered if it might be this same creature I had just unexpectedly encountered

2001 May 27- Virginia Is for Lovers...

...or so the license plate used to say. I made my second pilgrimage to Monticello this past weekend. Took me nine hours to drive there in my truck, but it was so worth it. In 1996 my family and I visited Monticello on a summer vacation, and what an inspiration it was. We took the grand tour of the house, grounds, and gardens. The vegetable garden had a long, rustic, black locust-pole pergola with scarlet runner and hyacinth beans twisting up and over. "This pergola I could build for roses" I mused. So I did the next spring. I had wanted to return ever since the vacation in 1996, and the open house at Thomas Jefferson Center for Historic Plants held at Tufton Farms about a mile from Monticello was the perfect venue. The director of the Thomas Jefferson Center for Historic Plants, Peggy Cornett, was far too kind and patient to me, taking time out of her very busy weekend to make me feel welcome and to answer my plethora of questions. Pastor Doug Seidel, expert in identifying old garden roses along with their history, and Liz Druitt, author of "The Organic Rose Garden" and television host of PBS's "The New Garden" were the featured speakers Saturday morning. Of special intrigue was a trip to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond the day before the open house. This cemetery is home to about 175 different varieties of roses planted at the graves of loved ones as a living memorial. Many of the roses are very old, rare, and were the source of bud wood for commercial growers today. Doug Seidel went along, and I had the privilege of riding in his car for the trip. This man knows old roses, and it a veritable fountain of knowledge. He is so willing to share this wealth and did so time after time as I pelted him with questions. He was so patient and kind.

The cemetery was everything I had envisioned, and more, and less. There were rose shrubs growing on graves in every direction, and unfortunately the peak bloom for most of them had past. A few were not yet in bloom. But there were plenty of bloom left for Doug to identify and talk of history. We had our photo taken next to the tall granite monument that marked, not only the graves of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Dabney Crenshaw, but the ten foot tall and wide Rosa moschata that clinched the re-discovery of this famous once-lost rose. Our host, the very pleasant and gracious Richmond native Jane Cox, gave us permission to take a few cuttings, and so I did. I surely do hope they take root. Pastor Seidel, who shepherds an independent Baptist church north of Philadelphia, spoke with inspiration as we approached Rosa bracteata odorata. "This is the rose all the southern belles used to ask for to put in their hair, it is so fragrant." Wouldn't you know, it was just several days from opening its first bloom.

When we returned to Tufton Farm at Monticello, I asked Doug if he would be willing to look at three roses from my garden I had brought with me in hope that he would identify them. I transported them inside my cooler in zip lock bags. He seemed eager to look at them. The first bag full of cuttings and blooms was the rose I call "Martha Washington" which I had found not more that 100 yards from my driveway growing on the corner of one of my neighbor's lot. Before I had the rose out of the bag, Doug made a definitive identification: "This, I am sure, is the damask 'Bella Donna'. See how the bud is flat on top and is not covered by the calyx? This is it's signature. This rose was commonly grown in Pennsylvania, but is pretty hard to find now in commerce." Wow, I was impressed already.

I pulled out the second rose, a shiny, dark green leaved, very vigorous climber that produces creamy white double blooms on very long, slender canes. I told him I thought it might be the wichuraiana climber 'Alberic Barbier', and in less than a minute he concurred and congratulated me on knowing what it was. The third rose presented to Doug was one I found in a cemetery in northern Ohio that I called "Edward Moy" at whose grave it was growing. I described it gangly, very long caned growth in my garden. After a brief inspection of the cuttings and bloom, Doug said in a low voice "Kent, I believe this is Rosa canina." I was surprised and embarrassed all at once. How could I not know this most common and perhaps most well known wild rose in all the world? Oh well, I was one for three. Doug then said to me "Let's get some of these ladies in here to see if they can recognize 'Alberic Barbier'". Doug called for them, gave them the challenge, and in they came. A few wrong guesses came forth immediately, some quiet, pensive moments, then a lady in the back quietly spoke the correct name. Doug went to his car and pulled out two books full of photographs of old roses: "100 Old Roses for the American Garden" by Martin and "Old Roses" by Philips and Rix. Internally I smiled and thought to myself proudly, "I have these books too!" Then just as quickly I realized that within these two books, are photos and description of all three of the roses I had brought. I had all the information at my fingertips needed, but didn't make the proper identification of two of my roses. Books are invaluable, but not as worthy as personal experience. Pastor Seidel had both.

The lectures the next day by Liz Druitt and Doug were wonderfully received. And alone would have been worth the eighteen hours on the road. After the lectures, everyone bustled off to Tufton Farm where I spent the rest of the day smelling, photographing and admiring the splendid gardens full of dozens and dozens of old roses I had only read about, but never experience in person. The featured garden for the day was the Léonie Bell garden planted about three years ago to honor the late author and artist and to showcase the Noisette roses, whose origin can be traced back (before 1817) to a cross between R. chinensis and the rose we had our photo taken at in the cemetery, R. moschata. I bought three roses to add to my collection while at Tufton Farm: an unknown musk or Noisette rose that was taken to Doug Seidel for his permission to sell, the musk hybrid 'Princesse de Nassau', and an authenticated plant of R. moschata. This last rose was found at the Bremo plantation nearby, and was positively identified when the receipt for its purchase back in 1815 was found in the U. of Virginia archives. Virginia is for lovers....of roses.

2001 May 21 - Tall Cherry Tree Falls On Barn

There had been plenty of rain this spring, as usual, and the ground was thoroughly saturated. On the morning of March 31, before dawn, the wind blew furiously. My wife and I were in the hot tub, as is our habit before work, when we heard the loud creaking and crash in the back yard. It was still pitch black and we could see nothing, but something big had happened. We both knew it. Later I ventured outdoors to investigate when I discovered the source of all the noise earlier: a 60 foot tall cherry tree in our backyard had fallen directly on top of our storage barn. The tree had simply been blown and rocked just far enough by the wind to break a few roots and move the tree's center of mass enough let gravity pull the tall tree to earth...well not quite to earth since our barn's roof broke the fall of the tree.

Complicating matters was the 1" diameter rope I had tied 12feet up the trunk of the cherry. The other end of the rope was fastened to tall black locust tree about 20 feet away. The middle of the rope was fastened to a four-legged tripod (quad-pod?) where I had trained 'Gardenia', 'Francois Juranville', 'Dorothy Perkins', and 'Jeanne Lajoie' up the legs. The rope was stretched taut and had pulled the heavy locust-pole quad-pod half way to the ground. As you can see in the photo, the tree was pulled up by it's roots, half of which were still in the ground. The roof of the barn was barely damaged, thanks to combined efforts of the rope and tree roots slowing the fall of the tree. We didn't see the tree fall, but I imagine it slowly making it's way toward the barn, straining against the rope and roots. I am convinced this tree would have bisected my barn into two pieces had it's fall not been slowed. There is often a silver lining. This tall cherry, now missing from the landscape, no longer shades a sizeable portion of the back beds, and the roots will never again rob the neighrboring plants of moisture and nutrition. Because of this, I planted three roses: 'La Marne', 'White Pet', and 'Raubritter' near the sawed off trunk. I may be $500.00 poorer because of the cost of removing the tree, but the increased light brought to my back yard rose beds can be considered priceless.

2001 May 20 - One Snake Twice and Two Unknown Roses

Yesterday morning, after several days of heavy rain, I wandered upon a four foot long black snake in the yard. Knowing my family's dread of snakes, especially so close to the house, I grabbed the fellow behind the neck and scurried away from the house before the girls saw me and started screaming. The snake's left eyes was enlarged and upon closer inspection it looked like it had been injured and scarred. The right eye was ok. You have to hold a snake that size and weight fairly tightly. It's strength and determination is felt when it squirms and starts to slip out of your grasp if you don't maintain your grip. I carried it about 75 yards from the house and tossed it in the woods over a hillside. Wouldn't you know, yesterday after church, I saw several snakes warming themselves in the sun just a few feet from where I found the large black snake yesterday. Two small gartner snakes and another large black snake. The black snake was about the same size as the one I carried away yesterday. I put on my leather gloves, just to be safe you see, snuck-up on the black snake, and grabbed it before it slithered away under 'Ghislane de Feligonde'. This black snake had a swollen and scarred left eye. It was the same snake. Isn't that amazing. I guess dogs and cats aren't the only critter that can find it's way back home if displaced! So I carried the snake, once again, back off into the woods about 100 yards from the house. "Get out and stay out" I whispered and tossed the reptile over a brush pile. We shall see. I grow a few unidentified (to me that is) roses I have collected on trips here and there. Two of them I made positive identification today. The first I picked up returning from a camping trip in Brown County about four years ago. It was a large thicket in bloom along the side of a country road. It was in bloom at the time and that's why it caught my eye I suppose. I dug-up a few suckers and potted them up right away, and they grew. At that time I had no idea what it was. Studying the books lead me to imagine it was a gallica, so it was listed as "Brown County Gallica".

One was planted near a black locust where it has thrived, spread underground, and now covers about ten square feet. Beautiful, medium pink, semi-double, well scented blooms on a short vertical canes with medium to dark green leaves indicate it might be R. gallica officinallis. I was pretty sure that's what it was, but never certain until today. In a trade two years ago, I received what was hopefully R. mundi, or R. gallica versicolor, the striped form of R. gallica officinalis. Through the busy activity and curiousity of her children, the sender of this rose fore-warned me that it might just be R. gallica officinalis since the younguns removed the labels or otherwise mixed up the roses she was sending. No problem I assured her. This spring is the first season her rose has bloomed. In retrospect, the children helped positvely indentify my "Brown County Gallica" as R. gallica officinalis. I pulled a bloom from my unknown gallica and held it next to stripe-less gallica today. They are indentical in every aspect. Thanks kids. The second rose identified today was grown from cuttings taken in early spring of 1997 from a large shrub in northern Ohio. My brother-in-law had just bought an old home to rehab, and this huge shrub was in the back yard. Several cuttings rooted, one was planted in the front yard. I called it "Fontaine Street" after the location of the old house where it grew.

It first bloomed two years later producing semi-double, pink-white blend, fragrant flowers in the spring only. I really had no clue what this rose was. I figured it was a named OGR, or perhaps a chance seedling that had really taken off and done well in the northern Ohio backyard where I clipped the cuttings. It's funny, but until today, this rose's identity eluded me....not that I work that hard at it. I have grown the damask 'Marie Louise' in a semi-shaded location in the back yard since July 1998. It is about 2/3rds the size of "Fontaine Street" and bloomed for the first time in 1999. In the spring when it is "Rose Time", you will very often find me in the garden with my Palm Pilot, recording the first date of bloom for my roses, shrubs, bulbs, and perennials. A bit obsessive I admit, but a true reflection of my curiosity, wonderment, and the science nerd that I am. But payoff was mine today. Today was the first day of bloom for 'Marie Louise' and my unidentified "Fontaine Street". When I recorded the date, the light-bulb went on. These two shrubs may be the same rose. I cut a bloom with leaves from 'Marie Louise' and carried it to the front yard. The leaf color, front and back, the prickles, the cane color, the bloom petals, colors, stamens, calyx, stipules, scent, and exact same date of first bloom convinced me: the gardener in northern Ohio was growing the very hardy old damask, 'Marie Louise'. And I had two of them.

[Post script 2001 May 29. Today I took photos of a very different rose that appeared on my 'Marie Louise'. This rose is much darker pink and very full. There were several blooms on the plant and I traced one cane back to the center of the base of the shrub. In Botanica's Roses there was a photo of 'Marie Louise' which looked identical to the rose I first discovered today. So....perhaps a hardy understock is what my 'Marie Louise' and the found rose from Kenton, Ohio are.]

2001 May 13 - Honeysuckle and Hummingbirds

There are moments in the garden that make it all worth while. All the labor and energy spent weeding, spraying, digging, back-breaking weeding, mulching, watering, (did I say weeding?), is incidental when the out-of-ordinary occurs outdoors. Today I relished a moment, and imprinted my brain with that which makes gardening a true wonder and joy. After an hour or so on-my-knees in the beds, I moved deeper into the garden carrying my half full tub of weeds past a tall black locust. Four years ago, on this tree, I tied black plastic netting twelve feet up the deeply furrowed bark to support a lonicera x heckrottii 'Gold Flame'. This spring the honeysuckle is truly glorious having climbed ten feet and displaying hundreds or maybe thousands of yellow and red, sweetly scented blooms. As I moved past the honeysuckle I heard the buzz, or rather humming and high pitched chirping of a couple of ruby throated hummingbirds. I paused and glanced toward the honeysuckle where two hyper hummingbirds were sipping nectar from the blooms and then resting on a thin, dead branch with no leaves. The red throat of one hummingbird was clearly evident, while the other appeared to be a female with no red throat markings. I was about twelve feet from the vine and ever so slowly shuffled my feet toward the birds in hope of getting a closer look.

The two birds seemed only slightly annoyed by my looming presence, and moved to the other side of the honeysuckle vine. I moved within three feet of the tree and stopped to enjoy my closer venue. At this distance I was able to see more clearly the features of the tiny birds, especially when one or both came to rest on the same thin, leafless stem as before. The stem barely moved under the weight of the tiny birds. Their tiny feet wrapped around the stem looked like black thread, and every so often one would slip its narrow tongue out its needle-shaped beak into the air. After a moment, the red throated bird leapt up and flew directly at the other bird chasing it away. A mating ritual of some sort, I mused. After a few dive bombs and even direct, mid-air clashing of wings, I notice that both birds had the ruby throat and were male. Clearly this was some territory dispute and perhaps a defense of a source of nectar. The birds buzzed around the honeysuckle, here and there, and flying fairly near my head a time or two, seemingly oblivious to my presence. For at least ten minutes I watched and listened to the diminutive aerial dog-fight, thanked the Lord for the wonder of it all, and moved on to another part of the garden to pull more weeds.

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