Trouble in the Garden

flowering poppy in my garden

Last June (2012), my garden was being visited by a few pollinators--butterflies and bees, primarily--but I noted that the clover, the mountain mint, and my zinnias weren't attracting the pollinators I expected. Over the summer, I stalked the pollinators that appeared in my yard, taking photos to document their presence. This June, the garden is preternaturally silent of buzzing insects except the occasional wasp or tiny iridescent fly. The birds have been singing, but the pollinator harmony is missing.

Tom and I became especially aware of the absence of pollinators when the numerous flowers on our tomato plants didn't seem to be setting fruit. We were so excited that this year so many of the tomato seeds that Tom planted in February sprouted and thrived. We imagined a bountiful harvest, and Tom added composted horse manure to the garden to help the tomatoes continue to thrive. Many of the plants are now above my head in height. But the lovely growth will be for naught if no fruit result.

In all our years of gardening, we have not had such problems with barren tomato flowers--pests, of course, by the multitude. So I did a bit of quick internet research to find a remedy.

mountain mint--usually attracts a great diversity of pollinators

Tomatoes are self-pollinating but require some encouragement to shake that pollen loose. The vibration of bumblebees helps do that. The bees aren't required to spread the pollen around, just to loosen it. Wind will do, and also a little gentle shaking. One gardener describes using an old battery-powered toothbrush, held gently against the top of the flower to recreate the vibration of a honeybee. Some gardeners suggest transferring the pollen with a paintbrush; others say a gentle shaking will do.

Heat and humidity can be a problem, too. One website claims that daytime heat above 85⁰F can be a problem; another website sets the high at 90⁰F. Well, heat and humidity certainly are a faithful couple in southeast Louisiana in the summer. This has been an especially wet spring. The ground has stayed wet from February through this first week of June, and forecasts predict scattered thunderstorms for today.

Heirloom tomatoes, I've learned, can be especially problematic, some dropping their early flowers but setting fruit later in the season. One of the heirloom tomatoes we've planted, Brandywine, is among the varieties that takes the longest to mature, up to 90 days for fruit to ripen. I'm just hoping that later flowers will appear and produce. German Johnson, another heirloom tomato in our garden, is supposed to be more suitable to areas with high humidity, but its North Carolina "home" (where it was introduced by immigrants), surely doesn't hold a candle to southeast Louisiana when it comes to humidity.

Growing a garden reminds us that there still remains in Nature outcomes that we have little control over. I cannot keep the rain from falling or the heat from rising. I can plant flowers that encourage the presence of pollinators, but large scale destruction of habitat and agricultural industrial use of pesticides overpower my small efforts. Reducing the impact of habitat destruction and pesticide use calls for large-scale public push-back, and so far, the destroyers are winning--and not enough people seem to care.

banana flower in our garden

hydrangeas blooming now

For now, Tom and I are going through the garden, tapping on the tomato stakes in order to gently shake the pollen loose. We're still waiting for the pollinators to appear in larger numbers. This year, we may be even more disappointed than last year, as bumblebees and other wild and domesticated pollinators are declining in numbers across the globe.