The Guinea Hen Flower and the Orange Army

About 5 years ago I bought and planted dozens of these checkered flower bulbs.  I'm a sucker for the drooping bell shape and the unusual coloration.  But the Fritillaria meleagris likes moist but well-drained soils and I've got heavy clay.  My garden soil is slowly getting better as I add more and more compost each year.

After I saw not a one of these flowers appear, I purchased a few dozen more and tried again.  And failed again - so I thought.  Some interesting foliage had sprouted where I buried the bulbs, but I couldn't be sure what it was.  Next season, I gave up and didn't plant anymore.  Instead I tried to be happy with my successful plantings of Fritillaria uva-vulpis .  This other fritillaria is known by the strange moniker Fox's Grape. Foxes must have a very different idea of what a grape is....  While they are also beautiful, they don't have the odd and wonderful checkered shading that I find so appealing in its cousin.

Now years later, the snake head emerges!   Here she is at the base of a jessamine/jasmine hybrid vine, nodding serenely.  A second bloom at her feet offers a clue to suggest it wasn't just the soil plotting against her.  The felled bloom has the fine angled cut of a bunnie's bite on its stem.  Rascally rabbits!

The arrival of a clan of feral cats that adopted our property late last summer have made this beautiful vision possible.  Although we still have a few visits from the woodland bunnies, they are not nibbling as much of the spring garden this year.  The foliage of the Guinea Hen flower has been arriving faithfully and without fanfare, but until now its blooms have been devoured.  With the patrols of the orange army of cats - who interestingly enough hail from the same woodlands nearby that is also home to the hungry rabbits - this elegant flower that has become endangered in the wild, is finally safe in my garden.

Swimming Lessons with the Harlequin Cabbage Bug

The mustard greens have been descended upon by these voracious eaters and pro-creators.   The bright red with black stripes make them stand out nicely against my greens.  I appreciate this as I enter the garden with my bucket of soapy water and invitations to a buggy pool party.

In our area we have about three generations per year.  I find them in groups of 2, 3, and 4 madly working on creating that younger generation.  With only 50 to 80 days to complete a life, they've got priorities.

Murgantia histrionica

Loners are sucking the life out of the leaves of my mustard, taking a break and refreshing for the next round of whoppee.  Further north, they have only one generation in the growing season.  And Yankees think southerners are slow - pfft!

The eggs they lay can generally be found on the backsides of leaves.  Just like the adult, the eggs are striking in appearance - little cylinders in black and white, lined up perfectly in sets of 12.   Eggs can take as little as 4 days to as long as 29 days to hatch.  The length of time required varies with the temperature.

At first, the pool gets crowded pretty quickly.  But with each day of lessons, the greens are quieter with fewer and fewer harlequins making merry.

They don't bite so I pick them bare handed.  I find it easier to get the bug without damaging the leaf they are sitting on that way.  With a gloved hand I'm prone to tearing leaves as I pick.  The colorful marauders are very cooperative, staying right where they are as I work through the leaves.

This drowned pair was retrieved from my bucket.  Even their undersides are pretty, with the red and black patterning carried over to that side. I wish I could convince them to eat the @#$*!  bermuda grass instead of the mustard.