Space invaders.

Invasive species are a problem in our ever shrinking world.  And this harlequin ladybird, also known as the Asian ladybeetle (Harmonia axyridis), is invading my personal space by hanging out in the Pinot grigio block.  Identifiable by a distinctive 'M' on their pronotums, harlequin ladybirds seem hell-bent on world domination; I have become very well acquainted with them over the last four years on my trips home to Blighty.
This particular ladybird did not follow me back to California from England.  No, harlequin ladybirds were introduced to the Golden State, back in the 70s and 80s, by the U.S. Department of Agriculture in an attempt to control agricultural pests.  And they have been quite successful in that respect, but they have also been successful in out-competing native North American ladybirds whose numbers are dwindling.  Sad, really.  However, I still like them in the vineyard, they're pretty to look at and I'm assuming that they will be useful in fending off any other invasive aliens.   

Earth Day, 2016.

Since getting back from England, I have been busy working in the vineyard, working my day job and generally catching up with stuff.  It has rained most of the day today (even had a bit of hailstone this morning), so I have had a rather mellow day mainly spent indoors.
I did venture out into the vineyard, a little while ago, to see how the vines had fared in the gusting winds.  Syrah shoots are so succulent this time of year that they are susceptible to snapping and breaking in breezy weather: especially when I haven't had time to stuff all the shoots up and under the trellis wires.  I am happy to report that everything looks splendid in my immediate, humble patch of the Blue Planet.
I have managed to stay dry, which is more than can be said for the ladybird I found ambling about on a Cabernet Sauvignon vine, apparently unconcerned with being slightly water-logged. Rather it than me.

Like a bug in a rug.

My constant companion today, well, at least whilst I was pruning one particular Cabernet sauvignon vine, was this ladybird who wandered up, down, in, out and all over the vine's peeling bark.  Totally unconcerned with the fact that I was chopping and snipping with loppers and secateurs close by, this lonesome convergent lady beetle would sometimes find an apparently perfect little nook to snuggle down into.  I checked back a few times over the next couple of hours and the ladybird was still wandering about in a fashion that did not seem to be in the least bit aimless.
However, this ladybird is not alone.  I have noticed a lot of ladybirds in the vineyard the past three days, certainly more than the last 3 or 4 years. Like everything in life, insect population dynamics are cyclical (with increases and decreases due to many and varying factors).  It seems that the Hippodamia convergens population in Vinoland is experiencing an upswing.  Bodes well for pest management.
Pruning is going well, even if it going a little slower than I would like.  My hands hurt, but, unfortunately, it is forecast to rain most of the day tomorrow, so I might be forced to take a day off.  First day of spring, indeed.  Humph!

The enemy.

Today is Remembrance Sunday.  This year is a particularly special year as it is the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I.  Since I arrived home on the 29th of October I have been wearing my poppy, (the emblem of the poppies that bloomed across the battlefields of Flanders), with pride. 
I used to love Poppy Day when I was a kid and I couldn't wait to place a small, kid-sized remittance in the familiar red collection box, a donation to benefit ex-servicemen and women.  In return I'd receive my red paper poppy with it's black plastic centre that I wore with enthusiasm.  The Royal British Legion raises a lot of money in their annual poppy appeal which funds their work with the Armed Forces community.  The ladybird in the photograph looks like it is sporting a brilliant red poppy on it's elytra in honour of the war dead.  It looks cute.  But looks can be deceiving.
The harlequin ladybird (Harmonia axyridis), a non-native species, is invading the British Isles.  The harlequin was first spotted here in 2004 and has quickly become one of the most common ladybirds in the country. The invasive harlequin is a rather large species of ladybird and it is a voracious predator, it is able to out-compete the native species for aphids and will also eat other ladybirds' eggs and larvae.  Not good.  The harlequins are clustered in large numbers around window and door frames and in any available nooks and crannies where they hope to overwinter.  Their numbers are quite impressive outdoors and inside: my bedroom and bathroom (at Thud's house) have been invaded also.  They're cute, but like The hun they are persona non grata here.  The world is an increasingly smaller place and invasive species hitchhiking around the globe is increasingly problematic.  I will definitely check my bags when I leave here later this week.
Lest we forget.

Happy May Day.

Out for a walk with Thud, I spotted this seven-spot ladybird (Coccinella septempunctata) loitering around on a hedge of common hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) that enclosed a newly ploughed field.  One would be forgiven for thinking this a very pastoral, appropriately spring-like image, except for the fact that it was rather chilly on our ramble. This is spring English-style after all.
The ladybird seems to have an extra half-spot on it's right wing (only I could find an abnormal ladybird to photograph), so it's really a seven-and-a-half-spot ladybird.
Mutant insects and cold spring weather...there's no place like home.

Ladybirds welcome.

Vinoland is teeming with ladybirds right now. They can be found out in the vineyard in each of their four stages of development; from eggs, to larvae, to pupal stage (shown above), finally emerging as cheerfully enrobed adults. Hippodamia convergens, commonly known as the convergent lady beetle, is the native ladybird species in this part of northern California. I am very happy to see them in such abundant numbers, it means that our vineyard is a healthy and thriving mini eco-system. The fauna living on the vineyard floor, and up in the canopy, are numerous and diversified.
Some alarmist folks warn of the possible problem of ladybird taint, (certain unpleasant volatile compounds that impair the taste or bouquet of a finished wine), if there are a sufficient number of the insects on winegrapes when they are being processed. In more than a decade of witnessing ton after ton of grapes being processed I can't say I am overly concerned with what would be an extremely rare phenomenon. Lots of spiders and earwigs, that unfortunately do not live to tell their tale, but no ladybirds.

Ladybird, ladybird...

The past two days were spent suckering and thinning shoots. It's quite a fun task. I got to see each vine up close and personal. It gave me an opportunity to check for frost damage which, I am pleased to report, there is almost none of. A few of the bench grafts, that were cut down to two buds, are showing some damage on the leaves that were just beginning to peek out of their milk cartons. Otherwise everything else seems fine.
The Pinot gris vines are pushing out every possible bud they can...they look like Chia pets! Well, they did before I went through and put a stop to their vigorous little game. It took quite a while but now there are actually spaces between the shoots. I am thinking they are wanting to be infected with powdery mildew.
One thing I did notice is that there hundreds of ladybird (Coccinellidae) larvae all over the vineyard. This bodes well for my grape pest management programme, which consists of hoping I have all the good insects for vines...and none of the bad ones. The larvae in the picture is quite advanced, she'll be hatching anytime soon. The sheer number of ladybirds, at every stage right now, reminded me of the plague of ladybirds we had in England in 1976. That was a crunchy summer indeed!

Even more budbreak.

As I was pruning our Cabernet sauvignon today I noticed that the Pinot grigio vines have woken up from their long winters nap. Everything is getting off to a good start. Even our table grapes are experiencing budbreak. The Cab, hopefully, is another two weeks away from pushing out it's little, fuzzy buds. Which is just as well as I am only half way through pruning. We have a few baby Cab vines that were put in last season and they are actually ahead of their older siblings. They were replanted for a number of reasons; gopher root-attacks, poor graft unions, Vinodog 2 blight, etc.
Cab pruning is hard work. There are so many tendrils, it is taking me forever to get last years wood off the trellis wires. I definitely prefer pruning Syrah.
Of course I stop what I am doing, now and then, to play tug of war with V2 as she tries to abscond with a cane. I stand still and watch the antics of the dozens of ladybirds that seemed to have populated the vineyard in the past few days. I pause, now and again, to observe the migration of Painted Lady butterflies (Vanessa cardui.) They flutter, from the south-east corner of the property to the north-west looking, for all the world, like a convoy of dancing flowers. I last witnessed this phenomenon about two years ago and they look so pretty I just have to delay my pruning to admire them.
I'm not usually so easily distracted, but there really are just so many good things to amuse me. The Cab will all be pruned eventually. Honest, Vinomaker.