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You can’t hide from aphids

I had high hopes when I moved to an apartment three floors up above a busy road, that the bugs wouldn’t know where to find me. Wrong!

I was horrified when I saw a lot of black stuff on my bearded iris. On closer examination it turned out the sword-like leaves were just covered with black aphids. Now where did they come from? I can tell you where they went, though — to an early death — squished to a pulp with my fingers. I sincerely hope this is not the start of a war between me and the multitude of wild vermin thriving in our mild climate.

At least there shouldn’t be any slugs, although I suppose it’s quite possible one or two may have clung to the inside of a pot of tulips brought from Melissa Street. Oh no! What a miserable thought, and I’m going to quell it right now. No slugs so far. Maybe the altitude would make them too dizzy to eat. One can only hope.

On the balcony right now I have a pot of dwarf tulips in full bloom, their petals spread wide in the afternoon sun. They are beautiful! As well, there are three narcissus nodding in the breeze, and several yellow pansies flowering nicely … not exactly a sweeping expanse of garden, but it helps. It does get dry out there and I hasten to fill the watering can, and give them all a drink.

I wish I still had a small paper-back book that used nature to govern when things should be planted. The only suggestion I can recall was plant corn when lilacs are in bloom.

This reminds me that when out walking I’ve seen lilacs with buds still pretty tight, but the magnolia tree I’ve mentioned before has buds bursting open, and they are glorious. Also the Pieris Japonica Mountain Fire is displaying its pendulus white blossoms, flowers like small white shells strung on a stem.

Of course there are dozens of sunny dandelions in any vacant spot of soil. They are lovely, too, but, of course, not in your lawn.

It seems to me that I’ve read that in England some seed catalogues advertise dandelion seed for the garden. I’m afraid that they could be called invasive. I remember my dear friend Adrienne walking me through her wonderful garden pointing out things such as alstroemeria as being invasive. In my opinion, hip hip hurrah! Bring them on! I love alstroemeria.

Helen Lang has been the Peninsula News Review’s garden columnist for more than 25 years.

 

 





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