There’s something to be appreciated and despised in finding a caterpillar munching the baby beets in my raised garden. There’s also some futility wrapped up in there. And curiosity, because it’s a cool-looking bug (even 30-year-olds have their five-year-old boy inclinations). It’s an emotional moment, apparently.
This particular insect stretched about three inches long and towered a quarter-inch off the ground. Scattered mulch would create obstacles for this animal. So how is it that this caterpillar got itself into my free-standing, 3’2″-tall box of soil and plants? The bed stands on stilts, and none of the newly-sprouted vegetables hang over the sides. There’s nothing to see — and caterpillars don’t see well anyway. Instead they make use of short antennae to find food. It’s like a nearsighted man walking up to an 83-story building and thinking, “Maybe there’s a burger up there.” And then climbing it to see. (Maybe not just like that since caterpillars have 4,000 muscles to our 629, and are hardly ever obese — but still.) Sure, maybe a bird snatched it, fumbled, and dropped the bug into the bed, a target that is 2′ x 3′ in the wide ranging rest of the world in which the bug could have landed. This seems about as likely as the caterpillar just happening upon one of the bed’s stilts and then happening its way up it. And the caterpillar looked to be in fine shape, not like it had tussled with a bird.
Perhaps this was just a particularly skilled caterpillar and therefore deserved to eat some the plants it miraculously found. Looking at the tiny creature balled up defensively in my hand, I leaned toward it being an oddity that it had made its way into the raised bed. So, I released the caterpillar in some leafy greens that had bolted, satisfied that I had spared this Sir Edmund Hillary of caterpillars. However, the next morning the bed had been conquered again, either by this same bug or some other member its family (caterpillars all look alike to me).
My astonishment hints at an essential imbalance in the ecology of my garden. The pests, including the caterpillar, find the food they want, expertly. I, on the other hand, know little of their habits and specialties, which makes it unlikely that I will be able to get between them and their (my) food.
Maybe it hatched there. I just let the animals have their fair share. The birds eat the figs that I can’t reach, I put spiders on my tomato plants to keep damage at a minimum, but I leave the caterpillars alone. It’s fun to watch them cocoon up. Besides, isn’t it worth it to see butterflies? Of course, I’m not trying to grow any certain percentage of my food. I imagine i may feel differently in that case. I do recommend purposely putting spiders in your plants though.
I like to let the animals share, as well — but they haven’t been sharing. There must be some kind of imbalance. Great that you use a natural pest control method with your spiders. It’s a good way to work with nature, rather than chemicals. I’ve been using ladybugs to control the aphids pretty effectively this year.
wow great blog. never seen this caterpillar before. keep posting.
This year I will be building a 14′x16′ cage 8′ high in an effort to save my vegetable garen. The problems?…iguanas and Key Deer!!
I will wwatch with interest the progressof your raised platform cage garden.
Scott
The real test of this creatures tracking device would be to put him down the back hill on some sage bush and see if he makes it back to the garden. Does he have the instincts of a bear and is he able to find his way back to those delectable beet leaves?
That’s a great idea. I hadn’t thought about trying to confuse the caterpillar by setting it in something potent. I just focused on feeding it something else.
You are right. Caterpillars and all bugs are pretty awsome. Just a little less when they eat your crop. I’m amazed how the buterflies only go put their eggs on my radishes and not the lettuces…awsome!
Yay bugs! The bees love my onions! Every time I go to water my onion plants there are four or five bees hanging out on the surface, and they don’t congregate anywhere except the onions!