Who do you garden for? It's become a bit of a cliché in recent years to claim that you garden for the pollinators but here we are: that is what I began to do not long after I started this whole gardening thing. Because initially you may choose plants based on the color of their blooms, the shape of their leaves, or because it was already in flower (instant gratification win) but it's not long before you'll look up from weeding and see, not ten inches from your face, a fat bumblebee trying to squeeze it's belly into the folds of a lupin blossom and you'll laugh at its' efforts to hang on while the petals bend beneath the weight.
The bee will move on and you'll turn to watch it go. And then you'll turn back to your weeding and... that's when it happens. When you start looking at the ground not for weeds, not for seedlings, but for bugs. This is when you'll start gardening for the pollinators.
And let me tell you, it doesn't end with the bees and the butterflies. They may have charm in spades but so does the ladybug with her determined march up a plant's stem. Her childlike form, the larvae stage, is less cute but makes up for it in fierceness. They soldier around the place in search of aphids to conquer and they'll never stop until their appetite is satisfied. Thankfully for them there appears no shortage of aphids on this earth.
Speaking of cute (and maybe a little terrifying) is the hummingbird who will take notice of the salvias and penstemon. She'll zoom past your face breaking the sound barrier and you might just duck out of her way (I do). Occasionally even she'll stop her swoop to peer at your face (not a foot from it, in fact) and what should be a moment of awe is rather tainted by trying to make yourself appear harmless because there's something in her face, a warning perhaps? Whatever it may be, clearly she's the boss and you're in her home. You'd better plant some more penstemon.
Hoverflies, dragonflies, and...well, regular flies (again, less cute) accompany the efforts of those who forage along the garden floor: the pill bugs on compost duty, soldier beetles and assassin bugs (notice a theme here?) forever on the prowl, and the caterpillars you tolerate munching your plants because they'll soon morph into monarchs, all these you'll find yourself noticing more so than even the blooms you've tended to for months.
What's my theory on why the bugs crawl their way into your heart and planting schemes? Gardening is often solitary work, and while there is a kind of deliciousness in that, it still gets a little lonely when there's no one around to share your garden with. Until we realize that while our human friends may enjoy the spaces we create during a quick visit, our bug friends are obsessed with it. They set up shop in it. And nothing beats that for the ego.
In summary: plant some plants for bribing your way into new friendships. Your coffee dates will be all the better for it.
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And now, a favorite garden friend of mine (of everyone’s) in three parts:
The ‘baby’ ladybug:
Her transformative form:
Her highness revealed: