Spotting of foliage of the red horse chestnut seems unavoidable by midsummer. Probably, a regimen of fungicides would prevent this annual plague, but instead I must recall its most glorious spring days and know that the disfiguring spots will not deter their return.
Certainly, the severe spotting might persuade against planting the horse chestnut, but I could not be without one. The advantage of an acre and a quarter garden is that while one tree experiences a valley, others are at their splendid peaks.
I suspect that my lack of attention must inflict a far greater degree of damage to the garden than fungi, caterpillars or beetles. Yes, there’s an occasional infestation, but rarely with more than minimal damage. I suppose due to an abundance of birds, and with numerous pleasant diversions, no preventative measures are necessary for pest control. But of course, there is little to be done to improve my distraction.
I notice the caterpillar eaten foliage of a vigorous Lysimachia, its spread held in check in the shade of a low branched dogwood. When not covered in yellow blooms, this can be seen only by stooping beneath the dogwood’s branches, which I rarely do until I noticed a few weeds getting rather large. The slightly sunnier edge of the Lysimachia clump is well chewed, and it would not bother me a bit if the few caterpillars ventured deeper into the patch. Certainly, nothing can hurt this rambunctious perennial.
Japanese beetles were scarce in the garden this summer. Never are they much of a problem, but even less this year, so instead of chewing the tips of Ostrich ferns, ones that have spread into the full summer sun are damaged. The spread of this vigorous fern is easily tamed, but I prefer its lean over the bluestone path. I can overlook the late summer damage to frond tips by beetles, or too much sun.