Bye-bye, Bagworms

Our lovely front-yard redbud had an icky bagworm infestation. That's one of those things that needs to be taken care of in a timely fashion (the darn things just multiply and harm the tree, and we really, really like the tree). The one organic method I know of to get rid of bagworms is to clip off the affected branch and set the whole webby, baggy mess into a bucket of water. The worms drown, you empty the bucket, end of story. Easy right?

Except that invariably part of the branch sticks out of the water, and the worms head for higher ground. What starts as an impersonal eradication of ugly bags turns into a face-to-face battle against hundreds of cute, little, fuzzy caterpillars. They climb up and up until they run out of stick, and hang on with their back feet while their upper bodies wiggle about feeling for another solid surface to cling to -- I swear they send out tiny, squeaky "Help us" signals. Then somehow one caterpillar's front feet make purchase on the edge of the bucket and others follow it to safer ground. Since the whole purpose of the exercise is to get rid of bagworms I can't just let them climb down the bucket, across the grass and back onto the tree; so I hang out with another stick, diligently flicking the escapees back into the water and actively assuming the role of "murderer."

The sort of ill feeling that comes from actively killing little, white, fuzzy caterpillars (they didn't intend any harm, after all) is, of course, amplified by the fact that my toddler is squatting down next to the bucket and talking to them. "Hi, bugs. Hi. What doing, bugs? Bugs swimming? Hi." Yeah. I start to wonder a little about what she's learning from this experience, watching Mommy put into the water innocent creatures that obviously cannot swim.

Long term it's all good, right? In a couple of years I can explain to her that one reason we do it this way instead of spraying on some chemicals and walking away (easier to disassociate with the whole death thing that way, I'll admit) is because the good bugs are hurt by the spray, too. And yes, there are good bugs. The praying mantis in our front bushes will eat aphids and other harmful insects for dinner, as will the lady bug on the slide in the backyard. And that bee pollinating the autumn clematis may just make some honey. And because all of them have been allowed to do their thing, future generations of praying mantises and lady bugs and bees can do their good things.

So I can take a deep breath, let the queasiness subside, and know that long term the experience was all worthwhile. I saw to the health of our tree in a way that did not jeopardize the future health of our yard.