Studiology

Parasite Attack

I'm sure I'm the only person you know that's upset by a tomato hornworm being killed by beneficial wasps. 

Death comes slow as the larvae of the wasp consume the caterpillar from the inside. Once finished and ready to morph into wasps, they open the little hatch on top of their cocoon and exit. 

Since my garden is mostly a night garden, I have lots of nicotiana, something the tomato hornworm likes as much as tomato plants. Although I have a good portion of tomatoes in there, just in case they want that too. Why do I like them?! For entertainment, purely entertainment. At night they fly around, fast as fast can be, almost impossible to photograph. But, I finally managed to get a decent photograph, here is the adult tomato hornworm or Manduca quinquemaculata. 

With August almost over, the night garden has gone into overload. By 10 at night, it's like a drunken party, every plant and it's pollinator are in the initial stages of inebriation. The air is full of glorious fragrances, enough so that an exit out of my house is like entering paradise. Last night was so incredibly glorious with a full moon and moonvine blooming in countless numbers. This morning it's like the morning after, blossoms to pick and clean-up, it was a crazy night on the town (in the garden). 

And tonight it begins again, oh glorious summer!

Oenothera glazioviana

I can't remember a year that I have enjoyed my garden so much. Summer is my favorite season and I will be very sad when it's gone. One special plant has made this year entertaining, at least in the evenings as the sun sets. A pass along plant, or one that is often shared from friend to friend, mother to daughter, Oenothera glazioviana or the red-sepal evening primrose has been flowering for a month and will do so for at least another month. My grandmother grew it, my mother grew it and each of us set lawn chairs around to watch as the flowers unfold. The timing of the flowers is just as the sun sets and I have watched them open around 8:30 only to have to rush outside to watch as they open prior to 8 pm as we approach September. The act of the flowers opening happens in minutes, often seconds. Accept no phone calls, don't leave the chair to weed, just chill and wait.

The word Oenothera comes from the Greek word oinos or "wine" and thera, "to hunt", which translates to wine hunting, a most appropriate name for this particular cultivar. The origins of the name are based on a plant mix-up, apparently another genus resembled oenothera and its roots smelled like wine.

There are about 145 species of oenothera, common names include sundrops, suncups and, evening primrose, not to be confused with primrose or primula, of which they share no relationship. Many are natives of north and south America and many hybridize among themselves, as is the case with this variety. Most are perennial, albeit short lived, Oenothera glazioviana is a biennial, growing for a year, flowering the second and then dying as it drops seed to begin the cycle again.

In summer, the yellow petals are tightly whorled, held by sepals that are often red, hence its common name, the red-sepaled evening primrose.  As the pressure of the petals (in their bud stage) builds, the sepals pop back and the flowers open. There is a special cultivar, found by a Tina James, in a Maryland garden. There may even be 2 Tina James cultivars , one with larger flowers and one that opens faster, which is hard to believe (Oenothera glazioviana 'Tina James Miracle'). 

Pollinated by moths, lured by the luminescent color and lemon fragrance. By morning the flowers begin to fade to a pale orange as they close up tight and fall to the ground the second day. Seed pods form along the stem and the plant takes on a weedy look by summer's end. As a pass along plant, it's best to share seed, commercial sources are far and few between. My advice? Find a yard with a circle of lawn chairs sitting at the edge of a garden and you will have your source. 

 

The Patroness of Dentistry

I recently completed a commission for Saint Apollonia, the Patron Saint of Dentistry. A gift for a retiring dentist, the plan was to build a 3D, assemblage piece, following the elements associated with Saint Apollonia. I have a little book of saints and followed the color scheme of red and green. 

The back story is pretty gruesome, as are most saintly tales. Saint Apollonia's teeth were broken as she suffered at the hands of torturers. It was demanded that she renounce Christ, or the torture would continue. If loosing all of her teeth weren't enough, a fire was built and she was going to be burned alive, only spared if she obeyed. She asked if her torturers might release their hold on her and she proceeded to jump into the fire, unafraid of death.

Always depicted with tooth extractors, a molar and fire, she heals those suffering from toothaches or other dental problems.  It was pointed out to me that the configuration of elements produces an A, something I failed to notice. This project was perfectly timed as I've been working on my "Saints and Sinners" show for fall. 

She's Here!

Finally after waiting and watching, my monarch finally arrived. She spent hours drinking and laying eggs. Today is a wonderful day!

My Asclepias curassavica or Mexican milkweed reseeded in the hundreds. I have nurtured it, moved the asclepias tussock moth to wild milkweed in the field and waited. All efforts have paid off!