America's most wanted moth.

The European Grapevine Moth (Lobesia botrana) has recently been found for the first time in the United States. This nasty little pest unfortunately made it's first port of call the Napa Valley; ground zero is Oakville where I work, with another isolated population having been found east of the town of Napa where I live. I can assure you this is purely coincidental.

L. botrana is an extremely serious threat to the wine industry as this particular moth does not feed on the grapevines leaves, but rather on the flower parts and inside the maturing berries. It was recently confirmed by the Napa County Agricultural Commissioner that several Napa Valley vineyards actually sustained significant crop losses last harvest. Besides natural dispersal, the movement of fruit, personnel (yikes, Vinogirl in her Vinomobile perhaps?) and machinery, coupled with the fabulous Napa Valley climate make this pest a very grave threat to other areas of the state. Large expanses of Napa County are now under quarantine.

The moth has a rather complicated life cycle comprising of 5 larval instars (the main offenders), and 3 generations of adults. Getting rid of these little fiends is going to prove to be quite difficult I'm afraid. Eradication efforts valley-wide will include; multiple applications of insecticides, the use of a bacterium (Bacillus thuringiensis) which produces a protein that acts as a stomach poison and biological controls, such as the release of tiny parasitic wasps that efficaciously oviposit the moth eggs and the dispersal of a synthetic sex pheromone so that male moths are unable to locate females.
There is a nasty little rumour going around as to how L. botrana came to be in the Napa Valley in the first place which doesn't suggest the probability that the moth was a simple stowaway. However, it is likely just that: a rumour. But isn't it at least conceivable that the French, fed up with the New World stealing it's oenological thunder, simply packed the moth's luggage for it and sent it to the Napa Valley to at long last avenge their countrymen for the American initiated phylloxera epidemic of the 1870s? Or is spending more of my time with vines than people turning me into a conspiracy theorist?

Done and dusted, 2010.

Yesterday, I finished pruning. Today with the help of Vinomaker, I finished tying down the last of the canes. What a relief!
I really enjoy the time I spend pruning in the vineyard, however I am not the fastest pruner in the world and so it takes me a fair amount of time to complete this particular vineyard operation.
I could possibly prune a little quicker, but I do tend to get distracted by any number of things; the Vinodogs, pretty little weeds, birds collecting twigs and mown grass for their nests, and today a skittish little red-backed jumping spider (Phiddippus johnsoni). I often glimpse these dinky arachnids, (I refer to them as 'red-bummed' spiders), furtively darting back and forth on the vineyard floor. I generally do not like spiders, but I endure these little fellows as they are an important component of the predator/prey food web that continues to keep Vinoland's grapevines naturally pest free.

The caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves.

Speaking of photosynthesis...there won't be much of it happening in my vegetable patch if the attack of the killer Tobacco Hornworm (Manduca sexta) isn't thwarted in some way.
I have had a spectacular crop of fruit this year from many different varieties of tomatoes including heirloom and plum tomatoes. This not so little hornworm has contrived to make my 'Early Girl' tomato vine it's home and dining room. The cheek of it!
I first became aware of it's presence when I spotted a bumper crop of caterpillar turds in my veggie patch, directly below where I espied it nonchalantly chomping away on the tomato plants foliage. Charming! Tobacco hornworm indeed, even it's name is disgusting.
The hornworm is now languishing in a large specimen jar, (albeit with a supply of more tomato leaves for sustenance.) Let's see if it can chomp its way out of that little pickle.