I hope that Shakespeare will forgive me for my corruption of his prose, but that is the million roses question, isn't it? Conventional wisdom holds that the use of Japanese Beetle-specific traps will increase beetle damage on plants adjacent to the trap sites. You can find that "wisdom" repeated everywhere, Extension articles, Internet blogs, over and over, accepted and final.
Well friends, ProfessorRoush had a mentor who once said to me "If I wrote that the sky is green in a book chapter of an authoritative text, in 10 years the entire world would be repeating that the sky is green." Phrases like "conventional wisdom" just raise my hackles, because if we've learned anything from the past millennium, it's that "conventional wisdom" often isn't worth a darn. If we followed "conventional wisdom," all maps would still be Flat Earth-oriented, we would still believe the Sun revolved around the Earth, the New World would never have been discovered and I wouldn't be trying to garden in the hell-hole of Kansas.
In the throes of anguish that Japanese Beetles have finally reached Manhattan, Kansas, I set out to look at some of the actual research behind the no-trap recommendation, and I can already tell you that the question is far from settled. Most of the statements that Japanese Beetle-specific traps increase plant damage and don't affect beetle numbers are referenced back to two papers in the Journal of Economic Entomology, 1985 and 1986, authored by F. Carter Gorden and Daniel A. Potter from the University of Kentucky. The papers indeed reach the referenced conclusions, but if you examine the materials and methods of their research you'll discover the interesting fact that they placed their traps at 1.2 meters above the ground in both studies. I already knew that a more recent study, by Alm in 1996, found that a height of 13 cm above the ground was the most efficient trap height, which just happens to also be the average height that Japanese Beatles fly around a garden. The 1985 and 1986 papers, for those metrically-disadvantaged, had their traps at 120 cm, so, in essence, they were expecting these lumbering insectoid rocks to find the traps approximately 10 times farther off the ground than they normally fly. Thus science advances gardening.
I also reviewed a 1998 Journal of Arboriculture paper by Wawrzynski and Ascerno that found that mass trapping over 15 acre area caused a 97% reduction in Japanese Beetles within 4 years. Consequently, I really question if "conventional wisdom" hasn't been keeping gardeners from using the best tools for this particular job. Commercial traps that use both floral attractants and pheromone lures are demonstrably effective, and the one pictured here is readily available and performed pretty well in a 2003 report by Alm and Dawson.
What does that mean for ProfessorRoush's garden? It means that I'm going to buck the conventional wisdom and trap the bodacious beetles out of my garden for a couple of years to see if I can slow down the Beetle Invasion (For baby boomers, I'm referencing the current Japanese Beetle Invasion as opposed to the 1960's Beatles invasion of the U.S.A). Based on the research available, I will place my traps as close as possible to the recommended 13 cm height and I will place them at least 30 feet away from the nearest important plant so as not to attract beetles right onto my roses. I will empty the traps regularly so the dead beetle stench doesn't drive others away and I will make sure the lures stay attached. I'll let you know how it goes.
I've already caught three hard-shelled fiends that won't be breeding little beetles for next year. I hope that it is simple logic. Less breeding, less beetles, more roses.
Though an old gardener, I am but a young blogger. The humor and added alliteration are free.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Speaking of Presents
'Timbercreek Ace'; Lovell, 2004 |
I should note here that as a state employee, I can't accept gifts of over $25 so to the K-State auditors listening in, I checked and a start of 'Timbercreek Ace' is commercially available for under that price...at least from some places. As a 2004 variety, it is, however, both one of my most recent daylilies and one of the pricier ones. I'm grateful to the client for it, especially after reading that a mature plant will have better than 22 buds/scape. What a display this will be someday!
The gorgeous bicolored daylily to the left is an unnamed daylily(#45BO5) bred by a local Hemerocallis activist and breeder, Dr Steve Thien. I obtained it two February's back as the winning bidder in an auction to benefit the K-State University Gardens. It wasn't, therefore a gift to me, but it was a nice gift from Dr. Thien to the Gardens that I "intercepted." Last year, it struggled in the drought, overshadowed by a native Asclepias tuberosa that I allowed to grow too close to it, and it didn't bloom. This year, with the butterfly milkweed cut back, it's doing better and has two nice scapes full of blooms.
Daylilies take a lot of grief from WEE (wild-eyed environmentalists) who disdain non-native plants. While I grow as many native forbs as I can in my pseudo-lawn of native prairie, and allow the self-seeders into my garden beds when I recognize their seedlings, I still appreciate daylilies for their acceptance of the searing summer heat and their bloom during an otherwise dead period in my garden.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Polareis Present
I'd like to honor today a generous reader of Garden Musings who contacted me clear back on January 31st with an offer of a sucker of 'Polareis'. She was responding to my unlove for 'David Thompson' and felt that I should try out a better Rugosa. It arrived on Friday, March 22nd, just in time for a late Spring snowstorm, but I planted it out immediately under a milk jug and prayed for the survival of the little sprouts.
And survive it did, to bloom for the first time on July 7th. The plant is still only a foot tall, but putting out buds by the dozens, so it promises lots of blooms to come. The foliage of 'Polareis', as you can see from the photos here, is moderately rugose, medium green, and exceptionally healthy in the Kansas sunshine. That first bloom took forever to open, taking 6 days to go from showing color like the bud at the top of the picture, to fully open, teasing me every day with progress, but not enough until July 7th to blog about.
'Polareis', registration name 'STRonin', has a mildly double bloom (about 25 petals), which open up blush pink and then fade to perfect white. References tell me that my tiny bush will grow to 5-7 feet tall and wide someday, with occasional repeat bloom and that it is hardy to Zone 3. There is a moderate rugosa-like fragrance. 'Polareis' also goes by the names of Polar Ice®, 'Polarisx' and 'Ritausma', the latter its original name near the Baltic region. 'Polareis' is a diploid, the offspring of a cross between R. rugosa var plena 'Regal' X 'Abelzieds'. Bred by Rieksta in 1963, it was introduced in Germany in 1991, and then in the USA by Star Roses in 2005 as Polar Ice®. Although Suzy Verrier seems to have been involved in its cross-identification as 'Ritausma', she doesn't list the rose in my 1991 copy of Rosa Rugosa, nor is it listed in the first edition of Osborne's Hardy Roses or any other of my rose books. In the magazine Perennials, in 2001, Suzy Verrier did publish an article titled "Rugged, Riveting Rugosas" which does describe 'Polareis' "at the top of my list" and states that she believes it to be the same as 'Valentina Grizodubova'. It seems like this rose keeps getting passed from gardener to gardener and renamed each time it passes.
For me, I'll always remember it as Gean Ann's Rugosa. Gean Ann, 'Polareis' does bloom now on the Kansas prairie. Thank you again for the gift, and for thus inspiring the double pun in today's title.
And survive it did, to bloom for the first time on July 7th. The plant is still only a foot tall, but putting out buds by the dozens, so it promises lots of blooms to come. The foliage of 'Polareis', as you can see from the photos here, is moderately rugose, medium green, and exceptionally healthy in the Kansas sunshine. That first bloom took forever to open, taking 6 days to go from showing color like the bud at the top of the picture, to fully open, teasing me every day with progress, but not enough until July 7th to blog about.
'Polareis', registration name 'STRonin', has a mildly double bloom (about 25 petals), which open up blush pink and then fade to perfect white. References tell me that my tiny bush will grow to 5-7 feet tall and wide someday, with occasional repeat bloom and that it is hardy to Zone 3. There is a moderate rugosa-like fragrance. 'Polareis' also goes by the names of Polar Ice®, 'Polarisx' and 'Ritausma', the latter its original name near the Baltic region. 'Polareis' is a diploid, the offspring of a cross between R. rugosa var plena 'Regal' X 'Abelzieds'. Bred by Rieksta in 1963, it was introduced in Germany in 1991, and then in the USA by Star Roses in 2005 as Polar Ice®. Although Suzy Verrier seems to have been involved in its cross-identification as 'Ritausma', she doesn't list the rose in my 1991 copy of Rosa Rugosa, nor is it listed in the first edition of Osborne's Hardy Roses or any other of my rose books. In the magazine Perennials, in 2001, Suzy Verrier did publish an article titled "Rugged, Riveting Rugosas" which does describe 'Polareis' "at the top of my list" and states that she believes it to be the same as 'Valentina Grizodubova'. It seems like this rose keeps getting passed from gardener to gardener and renamed each time it passes.
For me, I'll always remember it as Gean Ann's Rugosa. Gean Ann, 'Polareis' does bloom now on the Kansas prairie. Thank you again for the gift, and for thus inspiring the double pun in today's title.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Huns at the Gate
History doesn't report what the reigning Roman Emperor said when the Huns first reached the gates of the Eastern Empire, but I do know what ProfessorRoush said today when he saw this metallic green creature munching away on a rose. Unfortunately, my verbal outburst cannot be repeated in print, nor orally in the presence of good Christians or children, so my response will also be lost to future generations.
As I fearfully predicted last year, the frontier of expansion for Japanese Beetles has shifted west and they have reached Manhattan, Kansas. I was walking my garden this morning, taking pictures, when, from twenty feet away, I saw a dark spot at the center of a bloom of 'Topaz Jewel'. On closer examination, there he was, a solo advance scout for the Japanese Beetle horde. A few seconds after I took this picture, he wasn't nearly so complacent because he found himself between a rock and a hard place, the latter represented by the sole of my shoe. It was barbaric, I know, not to offer him a last meal or a chance to redeem his soul, but spies are not subject to the niceties of the Geneva Convention, at least as I understand it. At least this particular spy won't be reporting the location of my personal paradise back to his buddies.
I know, I know, where there is one Japanese Beetle there must be more, but this scout wasn't fornicating with a fellow member of his species as they normally are found, and so I conclude that he was alone. I immediately inspected every rose in my garden and found no others present this morning, and you can bet that every morning and evening for the next few weeks I'm going to become close friends with every blossom in my garden.
My second proactive move of the day was to go to the K-State Rose Garden to inspect the roses there and I hadn't gotten ten feet along the garden before finding another Japanese Beetle in 'Jen's Monk', pictured at the left. Again, I could find no camp followers for this scout so I concluded he was alone, although I did find two specimens of an unknown beetle, shown below, elsewhere in the roses. I don't know the identity of these latter interlopers, but both flew away when disturbed, rather than dropping moronically to the round as Japanese Beetles do. The confirmed Japanese Beetle I found, however, was summarily executed on the spot.
By eliminating the beetles as they are found, I hope to delay my eventual defeat and keep their numbers down until their natural enemies, such as Tiphia wasps, can aid in the war effort. According to this USDA pamphlet, peonies and knotweed, both of which I already grow, are good nectar sources for the wasps and fly predators of Japanese Beetles. I know the first years of invasion in a new area are the worst for destruction and then an equilibrium is reached. Perhaps my Purple Martin allies will help me keep the beetle numbers under local control for a few years while the rest of the environment catches up. I'm a little concerned about the blooms on the top of my seven foot tall 'Sir Thomas Lipton' being an unguarded back door for invasion, so some help from the avian equivalent of a stealth drone would be most welcome. To my Purple Martins, I say "Good Luck, and Good Hunting!"
Addendum 070713: Found one Japanese Beetle, a female this time, on 'Folksinger'. Hopefully, there are no children to mourn her loss. I also found one of the "different beetles" on a rose. I'm going to have to catch the next one and send it to K-State entomology.
Addendum 070813: Found another male last night on 'Morden Sunrise'. Then found two beetles this morning 'Folksinger' (one male and one female, the male escaped).
Addendum 071113: Found another male on Therese Bugnet. Collected this one and preserved to show the Master Gardener's group and to prove I'm identifying them right!
Addendum 071313: Found another Beetle on 'Sir Thomas Lipton' where I could see it (I still can't see the top). They've resorted to trying a stealth entry into the garden.
Addendum 071613: One beetle on 'Martin Frobisher'
As I fearfully predicted last year, the frontier of expansion for Japanese Beetles has shifted west and they have reached Manhattan, Kansas. I was walking my garden this morning, taking pictures, when, from twenty feet away, I saw a dark spot at the center of a bloom of 'Topaz Jewel'. On closer examination, there he was, a solo advance scout for the Japanese Beetle horde. A few seconds after I took this picture, he wasn't nearly so complacent because he found himself between a rock and a hard place, the latter represented by the sole of my shoe. It was barbaric, I know, not to offer him a last meal or a chance to redeem his soul, but spies are not subject to the niceties of the Geneva Convention, at least as I understand it. At least this particular spy won't be reporting the location of my personal paradise back to his buddies.
I know, I know, where there is one Japanese Beetle there must be more, but this scout wasn't fornicating with a fellow member of his species as they normally are found, and so I conclude that he was alone. I immediately inspected every rose in my garden and found no others present this morning, and you can bet that every morning and evening for the next few weeks I'm going to become close friends with every blossom in my garden.
My second proactive move of the day was to go to the K-State Rose Garden to inspect the roses there and I hadn't gotten ten feet along the garden before finding another Japanese Beetle in 'Jen's Monk', pictured at the left. Again, I could find no camp followers for this scout so I concluded he was alone, although I did find two specimens of an unknown beetle, shown below, elsewhere in the roses. I don't know the identity of these latter interlopers, but both flew away when disturbed, rather than dropping moronically to the round as Japanese Beetles do. The confirmed Japanese Beetle I found, however, was summarily executed on the spot.
By eliminating the beetles as they are found, I hope to delay my eventual defeat and keep their numbers down until their natural enemies, such as Tiphia wasps, can aid in the war effort. According to this USDA pamphlet, peonies and knotweed, both of which I already grow, are good nectar sources for the wasps and fly predators of Japanese Beetles. I know the first years of invasion in a new area are the worst for destruction and then an equilibrium is reached. Perhaps my Purple Martin allies will help me keep the beetle numbers under local control for a few years while the rest of the environment catches up. I'm a little concerned about the blooms on the top of my seven foot tall 'Sir Thomas Lipton' being an unguarded back door for invasion, so some help from the avian equivalent of a stealth drone would be most welcome. To my Purple Martins, I say "Good Luck, and Good Hunting!"
Addendum 070713: Found one Japanese Beetle, a female this time, on 'Folksinger'. Hopefully, there are no children to mourn her loss. I also found one of the "different beetles" on a rose. I'm going to have to catch the next one and send it to K-State entomology.
Addendum 070813: Found another male last night on 'Morden Sunrise'. Then found two beetles this morning 'Folksinger' (one male and one female, the male escaped).
Addendum 071113: Found another male on Therese Bugnet. Collected this one and preserved to show the Master Gardener's group and to prove I'm identifying them right!
Addendum 071313: Found another Beetle on 'Sir Thomas Lipton' where I could see it (I still can't see the top). They've resorted to trying a stealth entry into the garden.
Addendum 071613: One beetle on 'Martin Frobisher'
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