I Planted Seime. Seime Had Other Plans.

Have you ever planted a vegetable and then watched it behave as though you had given it permission to take over the entire garden?

Well... meet seime.(pronounced "same")

Here in Trinidad and Tobago, we call it seime. You may know it as hyacinth bean or lablab bean.

And if you have ever grown it, you will probably understand exactly what I mean when I say:

Seime is not a shy plant.

This was my seime vine in its glory — leaves everywhere, flowers popping up and pods hanging down.

It climbed, spread, filled every available space and generally behaved as though the garden belonged to it.

And honestly?

I didn't mind.

Because once seime gets going, it can be one very generous crop.

But Which Seime?

Here's something I find interesting about seime: there isn't just one type.

There are several varieties available locally, and gardeners often have their favourites.

Sometimes the preference is simply a matter of colour — the colour of the young pods.

Sometimes it's the shape of the pod.

And sometimes it's just what your family has always grown and eaten.

You might ask someone which seime they prefer and get a very definite answer!

“No, no... THAT one is the good one.”

And of course, every gardener is convinced their favourite is the best. 😂

That's part of what makes growing traditional vegetables so interesting. We don't just grow varieties because they're listed in a catalogue. We often have preferences that have been shaped by taste, appearance, cooking qualities and years of experience.

First Come the Flowers

Before all those pods appear, you get the flowers.

Close-up of the seime blossoms

The flowers grow along long flowering stems, tucked among all those leaves.

And then, if you look closely, you'll see something else happening.

Tiny pods are beginning to form.

PHOTO: Flowering stem showing tiny developing pods

This is one of my favourite things about growing vegetables — watching the transition from flower to food.

One day you're looking at flowers.

Then suddenly...

There are beans.

From Tiny Pods to Harvest

The little pods continue to develop along the flowering stems.

PHOTO: Developing pod

And this is where you have to keep an eye on your vine if you want tender seime.

The young pods are what I like to harvest, so I found myself checking the plants regularly and picking every day or two.

Leave them too long and they become more mature and fibrous.

Pick them young and tender, and there is always another harvest coming along behind them.

And when you have a productive vine, you don't just get one or two.

You get plenty.

And Plenty Is Exactly What You Get

PHOTO: Pods ready for harvest

This is the stage when I start harvesting.

And here's one of the things I really like about seime:

It keeps giving.

You harvest today.

You go back tomorrow or the next day.

And there are more pods waiting.

For a home gardener, that can be a very good thing.

Especially when your vegetable garden is also your pantry.

The Crop That Is Made for Sharing

PHOTO:  Harvested pods 

There is, however, one little problem with a really productive seime vine.

You can't eat all of it yourself.

Well, perhaps you can. But I certainly couldn't!

And that's when seime becomes one of those wonderful sharing crops.

There are enough pods to cook for your household and still have plenty left to give to family, friends or neighbours.

I think that is one of the nicest things about growing food.

Not every harvest has to be measured by how much you keep.

Sometimes a successful harvest is the one that makes you say,

“Let me put some aside for somebody else.”

And How Do I Cook My Seime?

I photographed the vine.

I photographed the flowers.

I photographed the developing pods.

I photographed the harvest.

I photographed everything .......even the cooked seime!😂

I like my young seime pods steamed gently over low heat with tomatoes.

Young seime pods steamed gently over low heat with tomatoes, served with hot sada roti, Yum! 😃

And when I want to make it even better?

A little coconut milk.

That's my kind of garden-to-table cooking.

Simple ingredients. Nothing fancy. Just a vegetable from the garden cooked in a way that lets it shine.

And really, isn't that what home gardening is all about?

Growing something with your own hands...

walking outside to pick it...

and then putting it on the table.

A Crop Worth Remembering

The seime season has already come and gone in my garden this year.

I missed my chance to write about it while the vine was producing.

But luckily, I remembered to take photographs.

And looking back through them reminded me just how much I enjoyed growing this crop.

Seime is vigorous.

It is productive.

It needs regular harvesting if you want tender young pods.

And if it likes where you planted it, be prepared — it may decide that your entire garden is its personal climbing frame.

But perhaps my favourite thing about seime is that there is usually enough to share.

And that's something I will always appreciate about growing food.

 A Little Garden Wisdom

“The best harvest isn't always the one you bring into your own kitchen. Sometimes it's the one you have enough to share.”

So tell me...

Do you grow seime?

And more importantly — how does your family cook it?

Do you steam it? Cook it with tomatoes? Add coconut milk? Or do you have a completely different way of preparing it?

I'd love to hear how other gardeners and home cooks prepare this wonderfully generous little bean.

Because some of the best gardening knowledge isn't found in a book.

It's passed from one kitchen, one garden and one generation to the next.

Until next time, keep growing, keep learning, and keep sharing the harvest.

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots.

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener

The Sunflower Thief and What Ma Taught Me About Asking 🌻

 “If you want something, ask for it. You might be surprised by how much you get.”   — Something Ma always taught us

I went into my front yard this morning and discovered that someone had stolen my sunflower.

Not the whole plant.

Just the head.

The evidence left behind: one sunflower stalk, no flower head, and a very unhappy gardener. 😩

And this wasn't just any sunflower. It was huge!  I wish I had taken a photo of it with my hand beside the flower head so you could see just how big it was.

This is another sunflower in my yard, just beginning to open. The one that was stolen was much further along—and much, much bigger!

 Another flower, now beginning to lose its petals 

I started it from seed and had been watching it grow and was patiently waiting for the seeds to mature so I could save them for planting.

Well… somebody apparently wasn't interested in waiting.

They came by sometime during the night, cut off the flower head and took it.

The funny—or rather, not so funny—part is that the seeds weren't mature yet. So whoever stole it probably didn't even get what they wanted. Those immature seeds are unlikely to germinate.

Talk about stealing before the groceries are cooked! 😂

But honestly, I was upset. I was livid. I had been looking forward to saving those seeds and growing more sunflowers.

And this isn't the first time.

The marigold mystery

About a month and a half ago, I planted a whole line of marigolds along the front of the yard.

They were growing nicely and just beginning to form buds.

Then one day I went out to pull weeds and noticed something strange—the holes where my marigolds had been planted.

I was hoping to get dozens of flowers like this one 

I looked around for the plants.

Nothing.

Every single one was gone.

I was devastated.

Standing there this morning looking at that sunflower stalk brought the whole thing back to me—and reminded me of something Ma always used to say:

“If you want something, ask.”

Ma believed that if you asked someone for something they had, you might be surprised by how generous they could be.

Ask for a small cutting and you might get two or three branches.

Ask for two oranges and you might go home with five.

People can be surprisingly generous when you simply give them the chance to share.

But Ma also had a childhood story that taught her the other side of that lesson.

The pineapple punishment

Ma told me that when she was a little girl, she and her brothers went into a neighbour's garden and picked pineapples without permission.

They came home quite happily with their pineapples.

Unfortunately for them, their father—my Grandpa Cyril—was a no-nonsense man.

He wasn't about to give them a little lecture and send them on their way.

Instead, he made each child put a pineapple on their head and walk through the village.

Yes. Pineapple. On the head. Walking through the village.😂🍍

The neighbour apparently thought Grandpa Cyril had been too harsh with the children.

But Ma said that experience stayed with her for the rest of her life.

It taught her a valuable lesson.

She never stole again.

And I suspect that when Ma told us this story as children, there was a little message hidden in it:

“Remember what happened to me? Don't let me catch you doing the same thing.”

She never actually had to threaten us with pineapples on our heads. The story did the job.

Ask. Don't take.

And that's what I keep thinking about when I look at my sunflower.

If the person who wanted that flower had simply asked, things might have turned out very differently.

The seeds weren't ready, but perhaps I could have given them something else. A few seeds when they matured. A cutting. Some flowers.

Because that's what Ma taught us.

Ask.

You might be surprised by what someone is willing to share.

But when you simply take something from someone's garden, you take more than a plant or a flower. You take away the gardener's chance to enjoy it, save its seeds or decide what to do with it.

So if you see something growing in someone else's yard that you'd love to have, remember Ma's advice.

Ask first.

As for me, I'll be planting more sunflowers.

Because one stolen flower isn't going to stop this Grey-Haired Gardener.

Although I may have to keep a closer eye on those seed heads next time.

Apparently, I'm not the only one waiting for them to mature! 😂🌻

What about your garden?

Have you ever had a plant, fruit, flower or cutting taken from your garden without permission?

Or do you have a family story about something your parents or grandparents taught you about sharing, asking or respecting someone else's property?

Drop your story in the comments—and if you have a photo, even better!

And remember:

Ask first. You might be surprised by how much you get. 

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener

What’s in Season? A Walk Through the Market—and My Garden

The garden has its own calendar—you just have to slow down and notice what’s showing up- The Grey Haired Gardener

Have you ever walked through a market and suddenly realized, “Well, somebody’s fruit tree is certainly having a good year!” 😂

That happened to me recently.

I was walking through the market, looking at the produce, and I started noticing something I always find interesting—what’s in season tells a story.

You don't necessarily need a calendar hanging on the wall to tell you what time of year it is. Sometimes all you have to do is look at what's piled up on the market stalls.

And, of course, I couldn't help comparing what I was seeing with what is happening in my own garden.

Chenette season has arrived!

One of the fruits that caught my eye was Melicoccus bijugatus ... yep , you read that right, aka chenette.😄

Funny enough, I didn't actually need to buy any. My friend, J, dropped some off for me last week. So when I saw them at the market, I had to smile.

There they were again—confirmation that chenette season had arrived!

And isn't that one of the pleasures of living here? Somebody's tree is producing more than they can eat, so a bag of fruit finds its way to a friend, a neighbour or family member.

No fancy packaging. No delivery charge.

Just, “Here, take some.”

And I'm certainly not complaining. 😂

And then I spotted the rambutan...

Rambutan piled high.....spiky on the outside, pure sweetness within.

Red or yellow, rambutan is always a treat…but yellow rambutan wins my vote!

There was rambutan at the market too, and naturally, that caught my attention.

I've had a bit of a history with rambutan.

I planted some seeds years ago and waited.

And waited....and waited.

Eventually, after about eight years, the tree finally flowered.

You would think that after eight years I would have been rewarded with a nice crop of rambutan, wouldn't you?

Well... apparently the tree had other plans.

It flowered, but the tree turned out to be male.

Yes. Male.

After eight years!

Gardening really does teach you patience—and occasionally a few new words that probably shouldn't appear in a gardening blog. 😂

But I wasn't giving up that easily. I planted five more rambutan seedlings, so I'm still waiting to see what the next chapter of that story will bring.

Seeing rambutan at the market reminded me that fruit trees are definitely a long game.

Sometimes you plant today for a harvest that belongs to a future version of yourself.

And sometimes that future version of yourself has to deal with a male rambutan tree.

But that's gardening!

What else is showing up?

As I walked around the market, I saw several other fruits and produce that made me stop and take notice.

It reminded me that seasonality in the Caribbean isn't always as neat as the charts make it seem.

We have our general seasons, of course, but weather, rainfall, location, the variety of the plant and even the individual tree can all make a difference.

One person's mango tree may be loaded while another person's is still sitting there looking at you as if it has absolutely no intention of producing anything this year.

And if you've been gardening for a while, you know exactly what I mean. 😂

That's one of the things I enjoy about markets. They give us a little snapshot of what is happening across people's gardens, backyards and farms.

And then there's my garden...

Of course, I couldn't walk through the market without thinking about my own plants.

Peewah is plentiful this season—this bunch glows bright orange to red, though I’ve also seen some pure yellow bunches with quite large fruits.

Photo: Shamela Rambadan

I have a young peewah plant that is about two years old. It's nowhere near ready to join the market crowd yet, but seeing peewah being sold reminded me that, with fruit trees, patience really is part of the deal.

Two years can feel like a long time when you're waiting for a fruit tree to do something.

Then again, I have learned that plants have absolutely no interest in our schedules.

They grow when they're ready.

My carambola, on the other hand, is currently doing its bit to keep me supplied. And that's another lovely thing about growing some of your own food—you get to experience the seasons from your own backyard.

Carambola season again! My tree is heavy with fruit, and it never fails to produce several crops each year.

Photo: Shamela Rambadan

Instead of simply seeing a fruit appear on a market stall, you notice the flowers first.

Then the tiny fruits.

Then you check them every few days.

And eventually you find yourself saying, “Okay, I think these are ready now!”

And sometimes you discover that the birds have already made that decision for you. 😂

What's in season in your garden?

I think that's why I enjoy asking gardeners what is bearing at different times of the year.

The answer isn't always the same.

One garden may have mangoes.

Another may have chenette.

Someone else might have rambutan, carambola, sapodilla, avocado, pommecythere or something I've never even thought about.

And that's the beauty of gardening in the Caribbean. There is always something coming into flower, forming fruit, ripening—or stubbornly refusing to do any of the above until it feels like it. 😂

So the next time you're at the market, take a little look around.

Don't just think about what you're going to buy.

Notice what's there.

It might give you a pretty good idea of what's happening in gardens around you.

And if you grow your own food, pay attention to your own garden too. Your plants have their own seasonal stories to tell.

Now I want to hear from you!

What's bearing in your garden or yard right now?

Are you harvesting something you've been waiting months for? Is your fruit tree suddenly giving you more than you know what to do with? Or perhaps you're still waiting patiently for that young tree to grow up and earn its keep. 😉

Tell me what's in season where you are—and send me a photo if you can!

I'd love to see what's growing in your corner of the Caribbean.

Until next time, keep an eye on what's flowering, fruiting and ripening around you.

Keep growing—your garden (and your confidence) will follow.

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots.

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener

When the Backyard Was the Tea Shop

 A clump of ginger rhizomes harvested from a pot in the garden

There was a time when tea didn't come in a box.

Growing up in rural South Trinidad, money was not always there for the little conveniences that we can easily pick up today. But somehow, there was always something growing around us that could be put to good use.

Our backyard was our tea shop.

I remember Ma putting a pot of water to heat on the fireside and sending us children outside to fetch the young shoots from the lime tree.

We knew exactly what she meant.

Not the old leaves.

The tender new shoots — the lime buds as we called them.

The tender new shoots or lime buds used for making "lime bud tea"

We would come back with our little handful, and by then the water would be hot and the tea would soon be brewing.

Simple.

No tea bags. No fancy packaging. And certainly, no trip to the supermarket.

Just a lime tree in the yard.

🍋 Lime Bud Tea

Lime bud tea is one of those childhood memories that has stayed with me.

The youngest shoots of the lime tree were picked fresh and steeped in hot water. It was something we grew up with, and because the tree was right there in the yard, it cost us nothing.

Looking back now, I realize that this was just one example of how resourceful Ma was.

Times could be tough, but she was always a provider.

She knew how to make things stretch. She knew what could be grown, what could be saved, what could be reused and, most importantly, how to make use of what we had.

🧡 A Little Turmeric From the Garden

Picked up some fresh turmeric at the local market....
Photo: Shamela Rambadan

Turmeric was another one of those plants that had its place in the household.

I remember turmeric being used when we got cuts and bruises, and fresh turmeric could also become a tea.

Today, turmeric tea has become quite fashionable. You can find beautifully packaged versions of it in stores, but long before "turmeric tea" became trendy, people were growing turmeric in their gardens and using it in their kitchens.

For us, it wasn't a trend.

It was simply what Ma knew to do.

🍊 Don't Throw Away the Peel!

And then there was citrus peel.

I have to laugh at this one because I still have a jar of dried citrus peel in my cupboard.

Imagine that!

My jar of dried orange peels

As I opened the jar, the scent of the dried orange peel took me right back to the kitchen with Ma.

It reminded me of the times we made "Toolum" — that delicious little coconut snack made with molasses. The dried orange peel was an essential part of making Toolum; it gave it that distinctive flavour that I can still remember.

Funny how a smell can do that. One moment you're standing in your kitchen, and the next, you're right back in your childhood.

All these years later, I am still doing something that makes perfect sense when you grow up watching someone like Ma.

Why throw something away if it can still be useful?

Orange and other citrus peels could be dried and saved for tea. Traditionally, citrus peel tea was used when someone was feeling gassy or uncomfortable.

It was another little example of making use of what was available.

The fruit was eaten.

The peel was saved.

And the garden — once again — provided something for the household.

🌿 Lemongrass and Ginger

Lemongrass is another garden staple that I'm never without

Then there is lemongrass.

If you've ever grown lemongrass, you know that once it gets comfortable in the garden, it tends to stay for a while!

A few stalks pounded and added to hot water makes a wonderfully fragrant tea, and adding ginger makes an old favourite even better.

Lemongrass and ginger.

There's always a container or two of ginger growing in a recycled container or pot in the backyard

A clump of ginger harvested from one of my pots. This time I really didn't put much effort into taking care of this pot so I didn't get a good harvest as I expected

Two plants that can easily find a place in a home garden and, with a little hot water, become a comforting cup of tea.

No complicated recipe.

Just plants from the garden and knowledge passed down through generations.

What Ma Taught Me Without Saying It

When I think about these teas now, I realize that the memories are about much more than what was in the cup.

They remind me of Ma.

She was incredibly resourceful.

When money was tight, she found ways to make ends meet. She didn't have the luxury of wasting things or buying something simply because it was convenient.

She provided.

And she taught us, mostly without sitting us down and giving us a lesson, that you use what you have.

You grow what you can.

You save what can be saved.

You don't waste what still has a purpose.

And when something isn't available, you look around and ask:

"What can I use instead?"

I think those lessons stayed with me.

Long before I knew words like sustainability or self-sufficiency, I was watching my mother practice them.

And perhaps that is one of the reasons gardening feels so natural to me today.

From the Garden to the Cup

Today we can walk into a supermarket and choose from shelves filled with teas from all over the world.

But there is something special about walking into your own garden, picking a few leaves, shoots or stalks and making a cup of tea from something you grew yourself.

Because sometimes the garden gives us more than food.

It gives us memories.

For me, those memories include children being sent outside to fetch lime buds while Ma put the pot on the fireside.

They include turmeric from the garden.

Dried citrus peel saved in a jar.

Lemongrass and ginger steeping in hot water.

And a mother who, no matter how difficult things became, somehow found a way to provide.

 A Garden Thought

“Before tea came in a packet, some of us knew where to find it growing.”

Maybe that's what I love most about gardening.

It isn't only about what we grow today.

Sometimes, what we grow connects us to where we came from.

And every now and then, a simple cup of tea can take us right back there.

Back to the garden.
Back to the kitchen.
Back to Ma.

Do you remember a tea that came straight from your garden or backyard? Maybe your mother, grandmother or someone else in your family had a favourite bush tea. Tell me what you grew up drinking — and who grew it!

Until next time, keep growing!

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots.

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener

Five Little Kumquats Started Me Thinking About Citrus Greening

Sometimes, a little harvest from the garden can lead you somewhere you weren't expecting to go.

The other day, I picked five little kumquats from my tree.

Nothing unusual about that, you might say.

But these weren't bought at a market. They came from my little kumquat tree growing in a pot, and I was rather pleased with myself. So, naturally, I took a photo and sent it to my friend Mike in Barbados.

His response surprised me.

He told me that citrus greening has made it almost impossible to get a good crop of citrus in Barbados. There are still trees around, he said, but some have relatively short lives and getting them to produce well has become a real challenge.

And suddenly, my five little kumquats had me thinking about a disease I hadn't thought about seriously in quite a while.

Citrus greening.

A little tree with a bigger story

  

This is my little kumquat tree.

It isn't particularly large, and it certainly isn't growing in a citrus orchard. It's quite happy in its pot, producing flushes of new growth and, when it's in the mood, plenty of little fruits.

Seeing it loaded with kumquats makes me happy. Happy garden dance! 💃

But my friend's comment reminded me that being able to pick citrus from a healthy tree is something we shouldn't necessarily take for granted.

Because I have seen what citrus greening can do.

I remember seeing it in Barbados

More than ten years ago, when I was working as Country Coordinator for CABI, I was involved with Plant Clinics and had the opportunity to see citrus greening firsthand in Barbados.

At the time, I knew it was a serious problem.

But that was more than a decade ago.

So when Mike told me what he was experiencing now, I found myself wondering:

What has happened to citrus in Barbados since then?

And then came the second thought:

What about us here in Trinidad and Tobago?

I knew citrus greening was present here. But how widespread is it today? 

And what does it mean for the person who has a lime tree in the backyard, a couple of oranges, or—as in my case—a kumquat growing in a pot?

Those questions sent me back to look at this disease again.

---

So, what exactly is citrus greening?

Citrus greening, also known as Huanglongbing or HLB, is one of the most serious diseases affecting citrus around the world.

It is associated with bacteria and is spread by tiny sap-sucking insects called citrus psyllids. (pronounced "sil-lids")

And unfortunately, it isn't the kind of problem where we can simply look at an infected tree and say, “Well, let's give it some fertilizer and see what happens.”

One of the difficulties is that some of the early symptoms can look like other problems we see in the garden.

Leaves may develop uneven or blotchy yellowing. A tree may produce weaker growth and gradually lose vigour. Fruit may become smaller, misshapen or fail to colour and ripen normally.

Eventually, an infected tree can decline significantly.

And that's what makes citrus greening so worrying.

Not every yellow leaf means citrus greening

This is an important one for us home gardeners.

If you see yellow leaves on your lime or orange tree, don't panic.

Citrus can develop yellow leaves for all sorts of reasons—nutrient deficiencies, poor drainage, root problems, pests and other stresses.

Citrus greening is a serious diagnosis, so we shouldn't try to make it based on one yellow leaf or a photograph posted on Facebook.

Look at the whole tree.

Is there unusual blotchy yellowing? Is the growth declining? Are the fruits changing in size, shape or colour? Is the tree becoming less productive over time?

And if you are concerned, get the proper advice.

---

And yes, Trinidad has citrus greening too

This is where the story comes closer to home.

Citrus greening was confirmed in Trinidad in 2017, and it has been an ongoing concern for the local citrus industry.

So although I might be happily picking kumquats from my little potted tree, citrus greening isn't some distant agricultural problem happening somewhere else.

It's part of our citrus story too.

And that is why I think home gardeners should know a little about it.

Not so that we become amateur plant pathologists.

Just enough to recognise that when something doesn't look right, it may be worth investigating.

---

What can a home gardener do?

For me, one of the biggest lessons from plant health work has always been this:

Start with healthy planting material.

When buying a new citrus plant, know where it came from. Buy from reputable sources and, where available, look for disease-free or tolerant planting material.

And be careful about moving citrus plants from one garden to another simply because someone has a beautiful tree they are willing to share.

A plant can look perfectly healthy and still present a plant-health risk.

We gardeners love sharing plants.

Believe me, I understand the temptation.

But sometimes being a responsible gardener means saying, “Thank you, but let me find out where this came from first.”

---

Meanwhile, I'll keep watching my little kumquat tree

For now, I'm going to enjoy my kumquats.

Five little fruits may not seem like much to some people, but gardeners know better.

We celebrate the first flower.

We celebrate the first fruit.

We celebrate the harvest—even when we have to count it on one hand. 😄

But those five kumquats also reminded me of something I learned long ago through my work with Plant Clinics:

Healthy plants are worth protecting.

Diseases can move from place to place. What becomes a serious problem in one country can become a concern for another. 

And sometimes we don't appreciate how precious something is until it becomes difficult to grow.

So, the next time you see a healthy citrus tree loaded with fruit, take a moment to appreciate it.

And if you have citrus growing in your garden, keep an eye on it.

Not with fear.

Just with a gardener's usual combination of curiosity, observation and a willingness to learn.

A little garden wisdom

“A healthy garden begins with paying attention.”
Because sometimes the most important thing we can do for our plants is simply notice when something changes.

Over to you...

Do you grow citrus in your garden?

Have you ever had a citrus tree that suddenly started declining or stopped producing as well as it used to?

And if you're in Trinidad and Tobago, Barbados or elsewhere in the Caribbean, what has your experience been with citrus greening?

I'd love to hear from other gardeners.

Until next time, keep growing, keep learning—and keep paying attention to what's happening in your garden.

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots. 

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener

When Garden Creatures Hitch a Ride

 The garden always has a story to tell. Sometimes, you just have to look a little closer.”- The Grey-Haired Gardener

There is more happening in the garden than we sometimes notice. 

“Have you ever noticed a tiny creature clinging to a larger one and wondered what it was doing there?”

Sometimes, in the garden, the answer is surprisingly simple:

It’s getting a lift.

Recently, while writing about snails hitchhiking into our gardens, one of my readers, "MJ" left a comment mentioning a word I hadn’t heard in quite a while:

Phoresy.

And of course, that sent this Grey-Haired Gardener down another little garden rabbit hole. 😄

"Sometimes, the best way to travel is to let someone else do the walking."

So, What Exactly Is Phoresy?

Detailed macro photography of a weevil with vibrant red mites on a dark background

Image Credit: Cassius Cardoso on Pexels.com

“FREE RIDE!”
Welcome to the world of phoresy.

Put simply, phoresy is hitchhiking.

One small creature attaches itself to a larger, more mobile creature and gets carried from one place to another.

It isn't necessarily feeding on its driver or trying to harm it. It simply needs transportation.

Think of a tiny mite that can't fly. Perhaps it lives among decaying leaves or in another short-lived food source. When that little habitat runs out, walking to the next suitable place isn't much of an option.

But if a beetle comes along?

Hop aboard!

The beetle does the travelling and the mite gets a free ride to a new home. Mites are actually among the best-known examples of creatures that use phoresy.

And mites aren't the only little hitchhikers.

Some tiny creatures will grab onto flies, beetles and other larger insects and simply let them do the travelling. No wings required.

Why walk when you can get a lift? 😄

Nature Has Been Carpooling for a Very Long Time

We gardeners sometimes think of the garden as being made up of plants, insects, birds, soil and maybe the occasional lizard.

But look a little closer.

There is an entire world of tiny creatures moving around us, finding food, finding shelter and finding new places to live.

And some of them have figured out that you don't always have to walk when someone else is going your way.

Nature's version of carpooling has been around for a very, very long time.

So the next time you spot a tiny creature clinging to a larger one, don't immediately assume you've found a pest problem.

Take a closer look.

You might just be watching phoresy—the garden's own version of hitchhiking.

                                    

Up close - The hidden tiny creatures in plain sight

🌱 A Little Garden Thought

The more closely we look at our gardens, the more we discover that there is much more happening than meets the eye.

And sometimes, all it takes is one curious question to send us down a fascinating new garden path.

Have you ever spotted one creature clinging to a larger one in your garden? I'd love to hear what you saw!

Grey hair, green thumb and proud of my roots.

thegreyhairedgardener.blogspot.com

https://www.pinterest.com/thegreyhairedgardener