I used to love watching cabbage moths dance about our yard. Their playful flutter was like a ballet in the air.
Then I discovered the first holes in my cabbages and their dance looked less playful.
My brussels sprouts were devoured and their flutter began to look downright menacing.
I've gone over and over my poor, dear, helpless little plants and though the holes seem to multiply before my eyes, I'm yet to find a single caterpillar. I've taken to herding the chickens through the garden a couple times a day in the hope that they will devour what I have missed.
I've waged war on the little buggers and I'm telling you at this point I'd sooner watch my chickens tear up the cabbages in pursuit of a dust bath than watch the leaves slowly disappear to my invisible foe.
I think the next adult I see will find itself in the terrarium. With the frog.
Then I discovered the first holes in my cabbages and their dance looked less playful.My brussels sprouts were devoured and their flutter began to look downright menacing.
I've gone over and over my poor, dear, helpless little plants and though the holes seem to multiply before my eyes, I'm yet to find a single caterpillar. I've taken to herding the chickens through the garden a couple times a day in the hope that they will devour what I have missed.
I've waged war on the little buggers and I'm telling you at this point I'd sooner watch my chickens tear up the cabbages in pursuit of a dust bath than watch the leaves slowly disappear to my invisible foe.
I think the next adult I see will find itself in the terrarium. With the frog.
