Successes and failures 2012, part 1

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The September garden didn't look very pretty, even though it was greener than the past summer, since we finally received rain.

Last year's similar article :

Year 2011

Hélène :

One of the pea harvest.

In April-May of this year, I would have told you that this early-starting season was going to be a good one! Where I am in Quebec, I managed to plant my peas at the very beginning of April, something a bit unusual considering that normally, there's still snow at this period or the ground is still frozen solid. But this year, the weather was so mild!

And then the problems started, first with a serious night frost that took the flowers off my juneberry and cherry trees, canceling my hope for a harvest. In the following month of June, we had a drought. Even with my rain barrel - that remained almost empty the entire summer - my plants suffered. Of course, if I had not been lazy about putting a good amount of mulch, a lot of plants would have faired better (shame on me). Summer nights stayed cold too, a factor that didn't help the growth of plants. 

Even in difficult times, at least the end of October's colors were fabulous:
Here's the juneberry, dressed in fire, and the birch in the background sporting a vibrant yellow.

In the end, the season stopped sooner than expected. At mid-October, two weeks before the usual closing of the season, my most fragile plants of tomatoes and beans browned up and died, most likely due to cold nights.

Since I don't have many pictures of gorgeous
vegetables, I'll show you flowers.
The valerian stretched to the border of my 
balcony. It's a favorite of bees.

But if one of the major principles of permaculture is defined by having a great variety of plants to subdue the failures of some by the successes of others, I'm really happy to have practiced it; else I would have been pretty miserable. Here's the summary for my 2012 garden season, successes and failures.

Failures : My tomatoes and winter squashes made an OK harvest, however smaller than previous years, but the real losers this year were the beans. I was always bragging about how beans never failed me and how I harvested plenty. This year, besides green beans that my son planted (just enough for 3 meals) and the Edamames (enough for one meal, not much considering I had 5 plants), I harvested only one Scarlett Runner and no Painted Lady (these varieties are normally my pride and joy). My 6 vines of Jacob's Cattle (a cooking bean) only gave me a handful. Talk about a sucker punch in my gardener's ego.

I talked many times already about my fruit trees' failure to produce something, but one I haven't mentionned yet was the golden raspberry patch. Even thought it gave me some fruits throughout the season until november as their usual, it was only a berry or two at a time and their flavor wasn't as good as previous years, acidic and not as sweet as usual. A gardener's snack, no more. 

Rose petals made a delightful harvest aimed at
perfuming baths for everyone in the house.

But were there any successes at all ?



One harvest of tomatoes and green beans.

Of course! Peas, as pictured above, gave a lot and the peaches got their own article, but what really shined this year was the root crops. Radishes, carrots, turnips! I got them in quantity.

Flowers also have done extremely well, like the valerian (Valeriana Officinalis), harvested for the root, the calendula, camomile, daylillies or even the dill for the seeds, leaves and flowers! Actually, all herbs did tremendously, from lemon balm to mint!

One harvest of camomile growing throughout my lawn.
They soaked in water to make sure no insect was hidding in them.
I make herbal teas out of those.

Broccolis have been a real surprise for me and will surely become a prized vegetable here in the garden. Cucumbers, althought I harvested only 4 from 2 different varieties, are considered a success since it's the first time ever I manage to get a fruit out of these plants. What can I say, it seems I just don't understand cucumbers, but at least I'm slowly learning. Same for the beets. I harvested only 3 (they were amazingly good) and it is a success considering the poor situation in which I thrust them (right in the turnip patch : result? The turnips won). All in all, if the common wisdom is right about failure as the best place to learn, this summer I seriously took giant steps!

This year's squash, the Burgess from Veseys,
and calendula flowers (Calendula Officinalis) drying in a bowl in the foreground.

It was my first year with corn, but not any variety! One to make popcorn called Strawberry Corn (I bought mine at Solana). Althought I got only one ear of corn out of the experience, the result was very interesting. I plan to try it in a more serious manner next year!

A couple of minutes in the microwave and popcorn!
My grocery store happened to have this variety of corn too, so I bought more
to make a bigger snack.

 

Find the butterflies (Vanessa Kershawi, if I rely on my google-foo) in the mint patch!

What about the rest?

One astounding thing was the life in the garden this year. There were some new faces (new types of caterpillars, butterflies, beetles and a pair of cardinals, to name a few) as well as old acquaintances (the bees, ladybugs, mice, robins) and out of all this a clear ecosystem is forming! It's beautiful to see, really!



A rabbit came around this winter leaving pellets in the snow and thus a wondrous manure for my garden beds right below. He came back this summer for the clover that was growing in the lawn. But my cats spotted him and were very interested so he stayed quite away. He wasn't all that scared about me however.

Strange broccoli, virtuous pebbles

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A fall landscape of the garden at the end of its run,
From the bees' nests carved in the wood, some cosmos plants sprouted.

Hélène :

While this season may wake the poets inside us, what brings me to write this article is a great discovery of mine : It's about broccoli and their strangeness. Everyone knows this vegetable and in my youth, after Popeye's spinach, it may very well have been the second most served vegetable on the table. But have you tried it in the garden?

You can see here where the first
head as been cut, however, there's
 more tiny heads growing!

This year harbored my first experience with it and here's a revelation that may encourage you too to try it in the years to come. Broccoli is actually an hydra. Yes, yes! When the first crown is cut down, smaller ones sprout in the following weeks! I almost missed that, because after collecting the first crowns on my 3 plants, I thought I should just rip the plant out, since to my inexperience, the harvest was over anyway! Luckily, because of my lasiness and a 2 week trip on another continent, the deed wasn't done. I've been taken by surprise when  I spotted the new heads amongst the yellowing  cucumber vines.

Cucumbers? Oh yes! I planted them amongst the broccoli. They hoisted themselves through the broccoli's blue foliage and reached the bamboo poles I had previously stalked here and there. Both of these plants work well together!

Broccoli isn't always an easy vegetable to grow. Louise didn't get any heads, but the leaves are also edible so she feasted on that. On my account, I attempted a little experiment that may be partly responsible for my success. First off, I started the plant inside, from seeds. Then, when  it was time for transplantation, one of my transplantation containers had 2 vigorous plants and I just didn't have the heart to cut one out. But they were definitely too close together. The solution came from Ray Browning (You Tube channel : Praxxus 55712). Here's his method in a nutshell : he transplants his tomatoes maybe 2 or 3 times, each time into a pot that is too deep for them. He places the plants at the bottom of the new pot, pushing the stems apart from each other. While deploying the stems, he adds some new soil up to just under the couple of top leaves left on the plants (he cuts the rest out close to the stem and discards them). This way, he separates them gradually, while he keeps burying them up to the neck while they grow. This makes stronger plants because the plants make new roots on all the lenght of the burried part of the stem. And while doing that, he realized there is no need to take out the weakest plant.

If he could do so for tomato plants, why wouldn't it work on broccoli? I used his technique while transferring them outside in the garden : I deployed the stems to keep the plants apart, I buried the stems with a good mixture of manure and garden soil and to keep all of that in place, I pressed a big rock in the center  between each stem. 

This rock first served a purpose by separating the plants and keeping them away but it provided something else, something by all accounts bigger. (I offer you only my theory here, this single test cannot demonstrate all the benefits of the technique.) One principle that is known in gardening is using the thermal mass of an object (a rock, like in this case, or gravel or even a water point like a pond) to accumulate the day's heat and leaching it back slowly during the night. This produces a more stable temperature in the surroundings of the object used. Of course, broccoli likes cool weather, but I have a feeling that for any plant, whatever its temperature preferences, a very variable temperature like those we had this summer is not all that good.

Speaking of which, we could push the thermal mass principle, an important principle in Permaculture by the way, farther than a rock on a broccoli plant. We could use this knowledge to try to further the tomato season (that was coincidentally shortened this year). A gardener could design his garden by using a cement patio's heat by planting just beside it. Similarly, tender plants near building foundations may resist the colds of winter better. Sepp Holzer uses boulders as thermal mass in his native european mountains to grow all kinds of tender plants where the winters are, in principle, much too harsh for them!

All in all, this experimentation opened my mind on the variety of methods we can actually use in the garden. I can thank my broccoli, because indeed, their high performance brought my attention on my rock's virtues. So maybe this rock hasn't been used to its full potential considering broccoli still prefer cool weather, but this gave me my first practical lesson about thermal masses and I am grateful. This will surely be a knowledge I will use in the years to come!
 

Child's Play

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Doo-dum. ... Doo-dum. Doo-dum-doo-dum-doo-dum-DOO-DUM! Squee !
The shark, hidden in the rhubarb patch.

Hélène :

A few days ago, my son's boredom grew to the point where it was time to invent a new game fast (as a matter of fact, the simple use of the word "new" is enough to shake him out of his bad moods). A variation on the Hide-and-seek game, but with hints. Only, we don't hide in turns. Instead, we hide toys, as you can see on the photos. 

In the carrots!

While my son was counting out loud, I went hiding this plastic shark (Go on and do admit that you too want one for bathtime), first over a rhubarb leaf, which is strong enough to support its weight. Coming back to my son, who was done with its counting task, I gave him a clue : "The shark is hiden in the rhubarb!" And he was gone, knowing very well where it was (but there is the appeal : certain plants named during the course of our game where unknown to him). Our game was working double duty : we were having a great time while he was learning the name of different new plants.

Perched over a giant, drooping sunflower head.

The cleverest part in this, is that it's easy to adapt this game's level of difficulty to each kid's skills and knowledge. For instance, my son is 4 and a half years old at the time of publishing this article, and he can count up to thirty at least, both in French and English, so a parent could work with that, teaching is child to learn about counting numbers. By the way, the world of plants is a marvelous domain to explore while learning another language... (Maybe I'll try Latin with him, one day!) On the other end, he has a little difficulty understanding and following the rules from any game, and as you can deduct from the photos, he needs a relatively big object that's too well hidden in order to succeed. So you can play on many aspects to graduate the game's level of difficulty. For example, an eight year old child will probably have more pleasure looking for an object the size of a marble that will be well hidden from view.

But what's marvelous is that a garden is full of creative hiding spots. Not only bushes, but a whole and rich vegetal world. It could be a sunflower head or a nook between two branches of a tree. These days, when we're not in the middle of a heat wave or a rainstorm, this game comes back often, at my son's request, and it not only gives him the opportunity to play outside, but also to learn !

Jaws between grape vines and Stevia, holding a Cosmos blossom between its teeth.

Against ear trouble, Mullein oil on the double

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Louise :

There is this grandmother's trick I'm trying this year, for my next big cold, if one of my ear canals starts to hurt or sting. Apparently, before antibiotics, this was a known remedy in all families. I read on the internet very favorable comments about it, from people who still use it to this day. 

 

This tiny vial's shape is ideal to  prevent the flowers from floating at the surface.
And surprisingly, it was not very difficult to drain and wash.

The flowers must be macerated in vegetable oil
for two weeks. We expose the mixture to
sunlight to help the flowers render
their medicinal components into the oil.

It's possible to get this oil in an apothecary shop, but it's really easy to prepare it at home from the flowers in the garden. We are talking about Great or Common Mullein here (Verbascum Thapsus), the one that grows like a weed in fallow fields or vacant land and that sometimes appears out of nowhere in our own yards. (At the end of this article you can find the fact sheet for this plant.)

 

The flower harvest is easy
 (pinch and pull method),
overall I needed about 20 to 30
minutes to fill my vial.
I had access to about 40 mullein
 plants, all in the same field.

Different recipes on the net tend to vary. 

Some add garlic (for its antibacterial properties), others heat the oil on low heat instead of exposing the preparation to the sun, and yet even other sources place this oil, afterwards, in the refrigerator instead of keeping it at ambiant temperatures.

The recipe I tried is really simple. It only requires two ingredients, the flowers and olive oil. This way, I'll be able to conclude that if it works, it's entirely due to the mullein and not something else.

So it's all about harversting the flowers and letting them macerate (they can be fresh or dried) two weeks in the oil. I forgot to expose my vial to the sun for the first week, but I remedied that on the second. There's one recommandation that comes back often : You have to make sure to cover entirely the flowers with the oil. Otherwise, the exposed flowers may develop molds. You keep the mixture in a closed jar or vial or bottle in a warm spot, or even better, in the sun on a south facing windowsill. This will allow the flower's active components (what we actually want, the medicinal part) to transfer into the oil. After the two weeks, we filter the oil out and discard the flowers.

Only a couple of flowers are in bloom at the same time on each spikes. But you can also use  dried or wilted flowers, something that can be useful if you don't have a lot of plants on hand. Or you can also harvest a couple of flowers each day, dry them and then use them when you have enough. I'm pretty sure one spike of mullein can provide enough for a tiny vial like mine. 

Here's some information from the web that I found interesting :

Here's a two year old plant,
the spike is starting to form.

Great or Common Mullein, (Verbascum Thapsus in Latin, Verbasco or Gordolobo in Spanish, and Molène in French) is a biannual, meaning the first year, it only forms a crown of leaves pretty close to the ground and on the second year makes a very tall stalk that will support broad leaves and a spike of yellow flowers in July-August. Generally, it dies the following winter propagating its seeds all around it, seeds that can survive for years in the ground, assuring a descendance to the mother plant. Mullein likes sunlit fields, sandy soil and damaged soil made either by man or forest fire.

The leaves and flowers are still used today in herbalism, to treat respiratory problems, skin infection, sore throat, etc. They have antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties.

Mullein oil is apparently very useful for ear infection, located in the outer or in the middle ear. It allows one to avoid the use of antibiotics.

However, this medication is not advised it if the eardrum is perforated, or if the ear is leaking. It may also be used to help cats and dogs suffering from ear mites.



Mullein isn't only soft for the ears... You can also use the
leaves as you would toilet paper if  you find yourself in trouble 
in the great outdoors.
They are thick and soft. Some wild bee species use the hair on the
leaves to make their nest. If you want to harvest the leaves for drying,
it's preferable to do it before the flowering period.

P.S. I had the occasion, just before publishing this article, to try my new medecine on myself. I was pleagued by very itchy skin in the middle ear (I suffer from very dry and itchy skin, at times). One application of a few drops every two days during four days, and my peace of mind came back !

P.P.S. On the other hand, against a real otitis (something occuring rarely to me), this remedy didn't do any miracle. I applied it daily and waited for the pain to subside, which simply occured after a few days, as is the case for me, usually. Therefore, I can't say that Mullein oil really helped me, but it didn't hurt either ! Anyway, as usual, I didn't have to ask for a prescription of antibiotics. And as usual, I'm grateful to have been able to avoid it !

The velvet of the peach

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Follow-up for this article here.

Hélène :

Last year, my desperate search for a new fruiting tree of small height (and something different than the too-often-seen apple tree) first stopped on an apricot tree, unfortunately back ordered. I was then introduced to the peach tree Reliance and I was told that - compared to an apricot - it was more resistant and that the fruits were delicious. 

My peach tree, spring 2012. Right at its foot,
daffodils, one hosta and two variety of daylillies grow.
The tree is well-protected by the high fence blocking the North-West winds.

What's that? Peaches and apricots in Quebec? How is that even possible? Soon someone will say we can grow bananas here! (Actually, we apparently do have a kind of "northern banana", the paw paw tree, from which the fruit taste between that of a banana and vanilla custard, however, I haven't sampled it myself).

The delicate pink flowers
that will turn into peaches.

Back to the peaches, I decided to try it out and luck was on my side when the boss himself came to deliver me the tree. His knowledge was invaluable and he approved of the decided spot, mentionning that the 7-8 feet high wood fence would protect it well from harsh weather and it would receive enough sunshine.

Beside these prerequisites, the tree is classified a zone 5 minimum, but I have heard of apricot trees that could go as low as zone 3! (No idea if they do make fruit however). Still, this information makes us rethink what we can and can't grow around here, no?

Last year, when I bought the tree, the fruits were already on the branches. I wasn't sure when I could harvest them exactly, so I waited for them to become a little bit too tender. Quite a mistake considering I'm not exactly the one who harvested them : Hurricane Irene made sure that the next day, they were all on the floor! The resulting fruits were less tasty and their flesh was a bit crumbly (that's the first picture of this article), but the taste was still exquisite, or at least, my son didn't look twice at them before engulfing them!

Juneberry covered in blossoms.
They were supposed
to turn into fruits!

This year however, I was scared of having none. My juneberry (amelanchier canadensis) made delicious fruits these past 2 years, but this year, the flowers simply disappeared without making fruits. It was due most likely to a night frost, even thought we had agreable temperatures this spring. Luckily, the peach tree's blossoms come a bit later and didn't suffer the same fate.

This year, the first peach was harvested at the end of July and it was still firm at the touch but all traces of green were gone from the velvety skin. The taste was even better than the year before ; refreshing, with a complexity of taste far superior to those one can find at the supermarket. It even had a bit of astringency. I should mention that this peach has a relatively thick skin and the variety makes small fruits. Still, overall, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Notice the leave's shape : It almost look like an exotic tree!

Note, if you wish to get a great book on unusual or forgotten fruits for the garden, Lee Reich's book, Uncommon Fruits for Every Garden is a must! The best part : Mr. Reich lives in New York, so most of his recommandations work here too!

Dill and borage, the stars of my garden

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Hélène :

A lot of my friends and acquaintances don't like the taste of licorice given off by certain plants like star anise, dill, fennel, anise hyssop and even oregano. I am not a big fan of it myself, although I lately became much more tolerant of it.

Anise hyssop blooms are a delight for my bees.
They are edible too! At least if you like the taste of licorice.

July's harvest, 2 dill flower heads, a couple of lavender
stalks and flowers, the first golden raspberries and a
borage flower (the blue star in the raspberries).

It started with dill when I bought a tiny plant last year, for the sole purpose of pleasing the beneficial insects gracing my garden like the bees. I found dill to be a very pretty plant, at least to my eye, with finely ciseled blue-green leaves. Next come the flowers, looking like big parasols and filled with tiny yellow flowers giving the whole head the aspect of a star. They also have a divine scent. Those flowers then transform into minuscule brown, striped seeds with a pretty white edge. Even the stalk is striped pale green and bluish-green! Little there is to say, from its 4 feet high, the dill caught my eye. And then my nose. Only a couple of flower heads are needed to fill the house with a lovely summer scent. Finally, I tasted it and was left flabberghasted. This had nothing to do with the thing on the spice rack at the grocery store! For the first time, I liked the taste of licorice. 

Only the third of my summer 2012 harvest.
Considering this is a plant that requires almost
nothing from me and one that came back on its
own from last year, the reward is substantial!

The next salad had fresh dill in it, of course, and the result was such that I haven't made one without it since. Other uses for this plant : You can use the seeds in a bread, or make an herbal tea with them, one that helps stomach aches. Or the eternal classic, a flower head added to a home-made pickle jar.

There is much more, the plant can come back from seed very easily! I haven't bought or started a new plant this year, but it volonteered in my garden and it has multiplied. My lazy trick to make sure to have some the year after : when you cut the heads full of seeds for the harvest, don't be gentle with them, shake them a bit ; some seeds will fall on the ground and voilà ! New plants will sprout the following year. Another useful aspect, taking the seeds of the florets of the plant is an easy and zen task. Since the flowering period is successive, there's no need to harvest all at once. You can do a little bit every day instead.

The young borage flower is
pink and turns blue at
maturity.

What's to say about another beautiful annual, borage (Borago Officinalis), a medicinal and culinary plant that makes marvelous blue star-shaped flowers. You may have to search for the seeds; I couldn't find any at my local garden center, so I bought some at Richters. Borage and dill have a couple of similar qualities, even though both don't look alike at all. First, borage too reseeds easily and it's also a very important plant for beneficial insects. The flower is edible and absolutely delicious! The taste reminds me of cucumber (althought some people say it tastes more like oysters). Either way, it goes really well in a salad or on hors-d'oeuvre.

A couple of sources mention putting it in ice cubes, but my trials were disapointing. The flower loses its vibrant blue color when exposed to cold and nevertheless tends to float on the water anyway, making it hard to trap in ice. A last notable ressemblance between borage and dill : Both plants have the reputation of boosting milk production. So if you are breastfeeding and consider taking either for the purpose, make sure to consult with a herbalist to prescribe you an adequate dose, else you may feel uncomfortable or it might even be painful!

Flower on ice, looks nice. Inside the ice cube however,
it will lose color and form.

A couple of notes should be taken on dill. Don't plant them at the forefront of the garden (unless, like me, you have a semi-wild garden), because even thought they don't make much shade from their 4-5 feet high, they may be in the way of your gardening chores. I find it a superb plant but some find its look weedy. Finally, before buying a plant, smell it. If it doesn't smell anything, buy one elsewhere! Life is too short for tasteless and odorless dill.

Wild garden, you were warned!

May Wine and Bees

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The garden entryway, the meadowsweet is covered in white flowers, the wild roses will flower soon and you can just see the golden raspberry leaves in the down-right corner.

Sweet woodruff hides under the gold raspberries, 
at the garden's entrance. It's covered not only 
with its own flowers but also received a good
amount of petals from the meadowsweet making
the scene look like a wedding!

Hélène:

Welcome to the garden! The garden entryway was definitely at its best when I started writing this article, around the end of May - beginning of June. The meadowsweet (Spireae) was covered in sweet and tiny white flowers. This sight transformed itself lately with the flowering of the goatsbeard (Aruncus dioicus), that looks like ivory fireworks and the vibrant pink of the wild roses.

The month of May offers a strange ritual, well-known in Europe, whose origin is said to be from Germany (althought the French Wikipedia says it comes from Belgium - the english version states it comes from Germany). Maitrank, Maibowle, May wine or boisson de Mai, is traditionnally served on May Day holiday. It is made from steeping sweet woodruff (Galium Odoratum, also known as Asperula Odorata) in a white wine. Some sources recommand a sparkling wine instead, others mention adding orange slices or other fruits - I kept it simple, adding only the plant and some sugar to the wine and letting the mixture steep for 1 month.

 

The recipe I had found in this excellent book suggested either a Riesling or a Sylvaner wine, I contacted a good friend who happens to be a sommelier, Christophe, who also has a blog on wine, to ask for his opinion. He suggested this Sylvaner. I also took a Riesling by mistake - this, however, put me in a perfect position to test the difference between both wines.

The results are surprising. The taste of the wine itself is subdued and I could definitely taste the plant in all its strength. The recipe I tried required to had sugar at the beginning of the process and to serve it very chilled. Luckily I followed that last step, else I would have found the wine too sweet, since it's closer in taste to an ice wine. But the bonus of such a chilled wine is that it's definitely perfect for hot summer days!

-------------------------------

The bees :

The Juneberry somehow didn't fruit regardless of its multiple flowers. This gave me quite a scare, because it lead me to think that the winter - however mild it has been, in reality - managed to hurt also my powerful garden allies. I am referring to my solitary bees (megachilidae or leafcutters). 

Ready to steep for a month.

 

The finished product a month after!
The goatsbeard in the back

 looks like fireworks celebrating
the end of preparation!

However my ownership of them is untrue. After all, I haven't made a hive for them, I just prevented myself, at a naïve time in my life, from destroying them. After contacting the Montreal Insectarium who offers invaluable expertise on identifying insects, here's the information they gave to enlighten me along with some of my personnal observations on these amazing creatures.

Here's a bee coming out of its nest for the first
time of the year. New nests are highly 
visible; they often sport saw dust
at the entrance.

The wood planks that my raised garden beds are made of can accomodate - following my personnal observations - nests for about 20 bees per year, if not more. It is clear to me that these bees do a serious amount of work here in the garden. This year, I had the pleasure of seeing them wake up on May 29th. At this date, I not only saw some of them get out of their individual nests for the first time, I also managed to take picture after picture up close and personnal - and it didn't seem to bother them one bit!

I've taken a beautiful picture (show bellow) : A bee and a hoverfly gathering pollen from chives flowers. The answer of the Insectarium, while confirming the identity on these two individuals, also mentions that the hoverfly is an excellent pollinator as well and that its bee or wasp appearance is a defense mechanism (called Müllerian Mimicry).

In the chives flowers, there's not only 
a bee but also a hoverfly, a small
insect ressembling a bee or wasp, but its
movements are reminiscent of those of the hummingbird!
The hoverfly is also an incredible pollinator and its larvae
are fierce aphid predators!

When I moved to this house and garden in 2008 and saw the bees, I thought : "How am I going to work the garden, I have a small child that loves to play in there, we will disturb them for sure and they will sting us!" Well nothing. Nada, Nein. We never suffered a single sting and althought we do approach the garden with caution, these bees are not only peaceful and adaptables, but they visibly learned to tolerate us (and vice versa, let's admit it), they accepted us and then... Then. It's hard to explain what's going on exactly, especially since these bees provide new individuals each year (one bee can live only up to a bit more than a year), but it feels like we know and recognize each other and we are somewhat comfortable with each other.

For example, a couple of days ago, while harvesting strawberries, one came very close, enough for me to feel its wings beating on my arm and then it went away (gave me goosebumps too!). Maybe it just wanted to identify me. Last year, while I was hand pollinating my squashes with a paintbrush (related in this article), I cornered one in a flower. I definitely shook it up with my paintbrush and althought it came out of there dizzy , it didn't sting me (you may attribute this to the dizziness). I often work near the bees' nests. During that time, I clearly notice they avoid going in or out until I am gone. We have "an understanding". It isn't signed on paper, but it somehow works. So even if I unfortunately don't have Juneberries this year (and the cause looks like a late night frost), I'm at ease knowing my bees are back again this year and are doing well - extremely well, even.

Leafcutters make perfect circles
in my juneberry leaves 
and they use the pieces to create their nests
Regardless of the leaf's look, it is not 
lifetreatening for the tree.
If you too notice this kind of round piercing
on the leaves of your plants, it's a good
 sign that leafcutters are close by!
Indeed, leafcutters can only carry these bits
of leaves for short distances.