Dahlia 'Weston Pirate'
Today's photo is for my sister: it's Dahlia 'Weston Pirate,' which I bought solely for the name. Oh, and its bold, swashbuckling, scarlet hue.
But mostly for the name.
Back to business: two new crops are coming up in the garden: jalapeño peppers and Seckel pears. The jalapeño peppers are a standby: they never seem to fail, and after all the guacamole and salsa has been made, there are always enough left for a big batch of jalapeño poppers.
The Seckel pears, on the other hand, are something new. The tree has been in the yard since we moved here, but it has never fruited until this year, despite producing beautiful blossoms in spring. There are about twenty pears on the tree now. We were disappointed to discover how grainy they were, but now I'm thinking about either cooking them or turning them into pear wine, which has revived my enthusiasm.
Elsewhere in the garden, the brandywine and green zebra tomatoes are ripe, pumpkins are starting to take on a russet tinge, the squash is on its last legs but still producing, the pole beans are sad, and the few edamame plants look like they might actually bear pods. But that's all fodder for future posts.
But before I go, I can't forget to mention the honeybees. You may have heard about so-called "colony collapse disorder," in which colonies of bees see unusually high percentages of their populations die off. Beekeepers in the U.S. were hit hard by collapsed colonies last year, and there has been worry that that if left unchecked, the problem could lead to a shortage of bees to pollinate orchards, especially in areas where agriculture is a major industry.
I have been really concerned about this story-- I don't know if it's just paranoia, but it seems like I've seen more dead bees than live ones in my garden this year. I generally try to avoid anything yellowish and buzzing, thanks to formative childhood experiences, but bees are a gardener's friend and sometimes even entertaining, so I've been hoping that the cause, and maybe even a cure for colony collapse disorder would be found.
Today, the news is that scientists have identified a virus that may be (partially) responsible for the bee deaths. It's encouraging to have some news, but on the other hand, it's not particularly encouraging news. With no way to inoculate or otherwise give the bees a fighting chance against the virus, will the slow demise of local populations be obscured by rising numbers of replacement colonies from foreign species? Will the bees in my garden today-- who have given me a bountiful crop of tomatoes, squash, and pumpkins-- be replaced in a few year with Australian immigrants? The prospect makes me sad-- and really, not so much for biological diversity, which would at least lend my mood some kind of nobility of reasoning, as because I'm silly enough to anthropomorphize my pollinators.
Prior to news of the virus, my favorite theory was that high-fructose corn syrup from genetically engineered corn was causing the problem. I'm really growing to detest HFCS and artificial sweeteners of all types in general, so that particular theory, I have to admit, made me almost cheerful. Alas, if only the world were so simple. And greater alas for the bees, who've received the short end of the stick in any case.
