Attack of the Aphids

 

Last week, I discovered that one of my hibiscus plants, a small and struggling little thing, was covered with aphids. Well, no wonder it looked so unhealthy, I thought, with its puny buds and shriveled leaves, offering little promise of a lush display. What next?

My options

Idea #1. I could try a natural repellent-type remedy.
Con: This could adversely affect the beneficial flora as well, and there are good reasons not to do this, but that is another story.

Idea #2. I could pop it in a paper sack, fill it with smoke, and seal the sack to choke them out.
Con: See Idea #1.

Idea #3. Ignore it. That plant isn’t doing anything anyway.
Con: This feels icky.

Idea #4. Hose it down to rinse all the buggers off.
Con: This tactic might be hard on the foliage but better that than the aphids, right?

Then it occurred to me: the continuing theme in this story is “struggling.” I considered how pests and parasites tend to attack the weak, but I know when a congregation of parasites set in, something higher up the food chain eventually notices. I looked around for other, bigger, meaner-looking bugs nearby. I saw nothing promising.

Idea #5. Maybe the best idea is to pamper it, bolster it up to withstand the invasion, and wait for nature to balance things out.
Con: This is a slower approach, and I could lose the plant if it doesn’t turn around quickly.

Although there are times I would in good conscience advise any of the ideas above, I decided, in this non-emergency instance, I would bank on the natural world to put things to right and give Idea #5 a go.

The plan

Step 1. I vowed to do a better job keeping the pot well watered and used my rain barrel water only. The heat has been remarkable and everybody needs extra water.

Step 2. I added a little homemade fertilizer tea.

Step 3. I topped the soil with a generous layer of mulch to help retain moisture.

Step 4. Observe daily. There’s a proverb that says, “The best fertilizer is the farmer’s shadow.” Now, there is a big hunk of truth! I would be able to watch for the signs that signal an upturn or downturn so I can act quickly.

The response was rapid, faster than I’d expected! The number of aphids dramatically declined over the next week.

A hibiscus struggles to resist an aphid attack

While I waited for the tiny pests to move along, I witnessed this little hibiscus do a major turnaround, presenting four big beautiful blooms over the next two weeks as if to say thank you.

There are still a few aphids lingering here and there. I don’t know where the rest of them went, but I’ll continue to keep a watch. In the meantime, I’m going to call this a win. The hibiscus did not look unhealthy because it had aphids, the hibiscus attracted aphids because it was unhealthy.

If given a chance, nature is wise and healing. Why must I keep proving this to myself when I know that it’s true?

Small hibiscus bush