entertain

A beautiful garden resembles a complex machine: its success depends on a balance of elements rather than moderation. Keep this in mind. And in the fickle San Francisco climate, the competition to best Mother Nature in her beauty continues from its genesis – which ever one you choose to believe in – in my backyard. Our fertilizers have changed, the soil has changed, the plants haven’t really changed much, the lands have changed, our world has changed, the atmosphere is changing, but humans, as a collective, refuse to give up their love for plants. Otherwise, we would’ve simply burned the lands instead of inventing antihistamines. Of course, other things exist in the world that harm our lovely flowers, such as insects…that…harm our lovely flowers. And because we fully understand the consequences of flooding gardens with insecticide, we now get other insects to eat the undesirables. In other words, we have discovered a new use for a very, very old cog, and it can now perform its original and modified purpose with equal satisfaction.

As most people recognize, Ladybugs, Ladybirds, or Coccinellidae (thank you Wikipedia) eat specific insects that cause problems for a gardener of any level, such as the aphid and other insects that whose names I’ve forgotten but eat plant leaves. Various gardening stores raise ladybugs for introduction into gardens. Unlike insecticide, gardeners do not buy ladybugs in containers with nozzles to spray onto infested area. Instead, I bought a waxed cup-like container with a grate to deter unauthorized attempts for freedom, a wet cotton ball stapled onto the grate, a bunch of wood chips, brown dots around the cotton ball (ladybug food?), and “more than 1500 ladybugs.” A gardener must follow specific instructions for maximum effect.

The cashier woman must’ve seen me struggling to contain my excitement, because after purchase she immediately blocked my path to the exit and started lecturing me about the rules to use a ladybug canister. And without taking attendance, either! I feel like I’m in one of those damned colleges already.

1. According to experts, ladybugs sleep or move less during cold, dark periods and pursue tail and grub during hotter, brighter periods. I then understood the mini-fridge storing the ladybug containers didn’t only supply cold, refreshing air to the opener, but also served to keep ladybugs brainwashed into believing that they live in a perpetual winter. I’m just relieved that, with the staff’s overwhelming power over the inhabitants, they didn’t hypnotize the poor fools to shoot each other. Anyways, the cashier woman told me to release ladybugs in the night to keep them on the ground for a longer time. Although the adult ladybugs (the iconic red, white, and black version) eat insects, the larvae (the longer, longer-legged orange-and-black version) eat the most insects, making them more valuable. In other words, a gardener must release the adult ladybugs in the night to let them dance in the moonlight and hold massive celebrations of forgotten inhibitions and enhanced courage. I have heard from others that darkness enhances intimacy, but I have yet to confirm this myself.

The night after the purchase, I stick the ladybugs into my refrigerator next to my mustard bottle, leftovers, a carton of milk, and pray none of them sleepwalk. I then occupy myself with watching the Death Note anime to kill some time before midnight.

2. A massive 30-year long international experiment confirms that ladybugs enjoy their privacy. The cashier woman took advantage of this study, and recommended to me not to sing as I release the entire cartridge – noises in the dead of night decreases their second generation numbers by 42%  and increases the chance of getting arrested for disturbing the peace by 2% (my neighborhood consists of old deaf people, and families with soundproof houses). Less importantly, ladybugs will defend their territory and attack each other when released in large amounts such as “more than 1500 ladybugs.” Therefore, she suggested to release roughly 500 after waiting for two nights to avoid unnecessary tension between the newcomers. I reluctantly erased my visions of maniacally giggling, setting my garden on ladybug-fire.

Midnight. I decide to try and eye out their numbers in my warmer-than-my-refrigerator kitchen. They started walking, and soon I spent more time returning escapees to the container than actually counting them. Panicking, I reason to remove all of the ladybugs dancing on my arms after I reach the garden. After throwing the chaos into an aphid-infested plant pot, I hunt for other escapees in my kitchen, finding 6 or so more, hiding under various appliances. That night I had dreams of a ladybug Moses and his lawyers confronting me about my releasing policy. It did not go well; the media circus crucified me and I ended up getting a group of angry ladybug-rights supporters for a jury. While the angry ladybugs shoved me onto the electrical chair, I woke up.  On my chair.

3. Two days before buying the ladybugs, I walked around downtown with friends, when a homeless lady walked up to me, curtsied and suggested I “give her a shower.” While walking away, I thought about the possibility of a secret society member disguised as a homeless lady giving me sage advice to save the world. After buying the ladybugs the lady’s voice boomed in my head, and would not cease her requesting. Google searches later I then confirmed that ladybugs do need water in their released area to rehydrate themselves and travel around the garden faster. I am eternally grateful for your request, homeless lady of the Knights of Templar.

In the confusion following the first release of the ladybugs, I forgot to mist the area. This did not stop me from forgetting the next two releases, but mist fell during those nights anyways.

Six nights after the initial deployment, our forces seemed to have either burrowed into the ground to feel warmer or suffered absolute defeat. I cannot see any of the ladybugs on the ground, only the wood chips that were delivered with them. The aphids seem to ignore the temperature, munching away. The next day our satellites picked up traces of moving red spots, at least four of them. I consulted the general-magistrate (mother) for funding allocations for a second canister, and she automatically refused. Two nights later I release the final company of ladybugs into the potato plants. The following morning scouts reported ladybug sightings and lessened aphid numbers in all three sectors, and I laughed maniacally at my initial fears of failure. The general-magistrate overheard, promptly reassigned me to washing dishes in the kitchen.

Initially, I didn’t expect such a dramatic change in number of plant leaf-eating insects. I believed that I would have to wait for the larvae to emerge to enjoy lessened aphid numbers. However, as of July 18th, 2009, I have yet to spot a larvae or aphid on my tiger lilies or potato leaves. I just hope that those ladybug larvae have enough food. With the feeding speed of the adults, large second generation numbers seem slim at best. Regardless, the ladybirds have served their original purpose. I will probably buy another batch of ladybugs in warmer days; my wildflower seedlings look very vulnerable in the sunless mild days of Sunset District, San Francisco. So for right now, I say the ladybugs worked.