This is year two of my pollinator garden. It’s required real effort. First, I had to eradicate invasive species, mainly goutweed and dead nettles. Though lush and verdant, they took over.
I covered everything in black plastic for weeks to kill the roots. Then my mother worked hard digging up roots and preparing the soil. Finally, we planted a few native species. To be honest, it wasn’t much to look at when summer started. However, I remained optimistic and kept tending to the plants. Slowly it took a shape. Since May, I patrol the patch everyday for invaders, quickly weeding anything invasive.
Over the months I’ve added a new plants, including a milkweed that sprouted like crazy. This is my third attempt with milkweed. Previously, in a different part of the garden, the milkweed always got infested by these horrid, yellow aphids. Each time, after diligently trying to get rid of them, I faced the same inevitable outcome. The plant had to be ripped out. This year, in a new spot, I felt hopeful. However, the invaders came again.
The first bright, specs of aphids infested the flowers and stalks in the front of the plant. I ruthlessly and mercilessly chopped off the affected areas…until the Monarch visit. She fluttered along one day to sample the milkweed’s tasty blooms and lay eggs. I know because after she left I searched the leaves and discovered tiny eggs on some of them. She was elegant, delicate, and completely unhurried in her exploration of the milkweed.
This left me with an uncomfortable dilemma. Save the plant from aphids and risk losing monarch eggs. Or let the aphids proliferate and hope the eggs survive the infestation. I patrol the plant daily squashing any visible signs of aphids. Occasionally I’ll cut the infected parts off, only after inspecting each leaf for signs of monarch life.
In the midst of everything wrong and crazy in the world, the climate, the wars, the air quality… it feels good to preserve a small patch of something. Each day I feel gratitude watching a flurry of winged insects sampling the tasty offerings in my small pollinator patch. Their bodies dusty and speckled from collecting pollen.
I may not be able to save this milkweed from its aphid fate, but I’ve preserved the plant long enough for seeds. And if I’m lucky a few monarchs, too.
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