Over the weekend I had wine-on-the-mind. My best friends were celebrating the release of their 2007 Domanico Cellars red wines; they’ve been making wine for several years now and are really coming into their own.
Domanico Cellars Wines at the Northwest Flower & Garden Show
It’s exciting to see their success and to enjoy their fantastic wines. So, as I was sipping a glass of Domanico Cellars Le Monstre Cabernet and reading various articles online, I was captivated by the headline: Moth Forces Wine Country’s Secret Into the Open. Rut-ro! The horty in me knew right away that someone and something was up to no good.
The article essentially reports that a grape-eating moth has been imported from Europe to the Napa valley, likely by way of the growers themselves who may (or may not) have brought in infected vine cuttings, skirting USDA quarantine headaches in order to get the vines going rapidly. (There are also some more evil posits about this issue and some that simply imply human error; regardless, Lobesia botrana is now in Napa.) Yep, somebody was probably breaking the rules, and the result is a destructive pest now threatens not only the vineyards of those who imported the cuttings but also the entire valley. And dare I say it? Perhaps the entire west coast growing region including my treasured Domanico Cellars wines? As I savored my glass of cab and thought about my own plant sharing mistakes of years-gone-by, I suffered a pang of regret.
First off, let’s be clear. Pests, weeds and disease can make their way around the world without any help from human beings. Burr-forming weeds are designed to attach to fuzzy animals to ensure their seed is spread from one field to another; this trick of nature means my own dog has brought in more weeds than I care ever to pull. Egg casings of beetles can easily get lodged in the sole of a work boot to travel from a garden in (say) Virginia to a garden in (say) Washington. Destructive fungal spores can affix to a work glove as we dig, only to move from an infested bed to the next one when that same glove touches it. Or, just about any of these can simply go blowin’ in the wind from one place to another. So, sure, whether intended or not, nature happens. But, we do have quarantine protocols for a reason. This moth infestation illustrates why.
One Person's Trash is Another Person's Treasured Perennial?
And, my ignorant beginnings mean I’m not guilt-free in this area. Years ago, before I knew better, I carried with me some iris that I thought my mother had cultivated from my grandmother’s garden. Sentimentality and a fragrant, easy-to-grow plant convinced me this was a must-have plant. A few years later, my mom visited and saw the iris in my garden. “Why the hell do you have that thing here?” she asked. Turns out, this bearded lovely was actually a plant my mother had gotten from the dump. It never grew in my grandmother’s garden. And, although not invasive, it is a prolific grower. My neighbors continue to tease me when I pull, divide and compost its many tubers each spring and fall. (So in a sense, I’m actually sending more of it on to a more modern kind of dump — the local composting facility.) And, although this plant may not be problematic, it’s true that I may have brought some pest or disease along with it in my travels. I don’t know, but it could have happened. And, truly, infestations of all kinds can happen each time I bring a new bag of soil or load of compost or even quarantine-cleared plant into my garden. It can happen each time I walk to and from various garden job sites. Life lives and spreads — whether we consider a lifeform a pest or not.
The reality is that plants that are imported across state or country lines may or may not actually go through inspection even when submitted to quarantine. There really are only a certain number of inspectors out there afterall. And, if the plants are inspected, they may not be inspected for every potential problem. And, even if they are inspected, a problem can be missed. Plus, let’s be realistic, we may not even know what every potential problem is, right? But, if we’re informed, as I am now, best to err on the side of safety. Think twice about doing as my grandmothers used to love to do — don’t take a cutting for your own garden when traveling out of state or out of country. In today’s world, odds are you can easily order an inspected, cleared and hopefully clean version of that very same plant once you get home. It may not be free, but hopefully it is free of any added “non-bonus” lifeforms that won’t enhance your garden.
