But each year they usually end up looking like this instead.
The culprit is the lily beetle, a small orange insect that originated in Europe and Asia and arrived in North America sixty years ago, hidden in a shipment of flowers. It lives in the soil around the lilies and emerges each spring to mate and lay eggs. The adults and larvae dine on tender young lily leaves, leaving them in a very sorry state.
This year I watched carefully for signs of damage to the leaves. My usual plan of attack is to pick the beetles off the leaves and drop them into a pail of water with a little dish liquid added. Hand-picking seems to be the most reliable method of control, since approved insecticides are ineffective on them, stronger poisons are illegal where we live, and the little beasts seem to have no natural enemies.
Until last week I noticed no sign of the pests during my twice daily inspections. Maybe this would be a beetle-free year for the first time in over a decade. I rejoiced as the lilies grew tall and flower buds appeared at the top of the long, thick stems. Then suddenly last weekend, the enemy struck with a vengeance. Maybe they were celebrating Independence Day. One evening the lilies where undamaged and healthy; the following morning they were riddled with holes and covered with orange menaces.
I grabbed my pail, filled it with water, added a dash of detergent, and went into the garden to do battle. Holding the pail at the base of a lily with one hand, I patted the stem none too gently with the other, and was gratified to see beetles fall from the plant and land in the bucket. I systematically worked my way through the patch, whacking the lilies and harvesting the unwanted pests.
"You're spanking the lilies!" Ron observed.
"It's the bugs that deserve the spanking," I replied as I worked. I can see that I'll be busy for the next few days, spanking the lilies until the pests are under control. Kinky gardening can be fun!
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