Aquilegias guard our snailbait Strawberries

You can't see them, but there are Strawberries under this sea of blue:

The Strawbs are under there somewhere...

In normal gardens by normal gardeners, Strawberries are planted out in the open, so they can convert maximum sunshine into sugar & yumminess.

Following conventional soft-fruits-together logic, ours are with the Rasps, planted just in front of them. But some Aquilegia were living there first which means the Strawbs are frequently dwarfed.

So the other year, I had a fit of trying to do right by the low lying soft fruits; do things efficiently & by the book, rather than let things slide & forcing the plants fend for themselves as usual.

Let the sunshine in

Once the Aquilegia had finished flowering, I cut them right back to the ground so the Strawbs could have their moment in the sun.

& the result? Were we forced to eat Strawberry ice cream every meal just to get through the mammoth surplus?

Of course not. Total disaster. A snail-wrought devastation of that year's harvest.

So what the smeg went wrong? I'd done the right thing - how could it possibly have gone so badly?

On reflection I think a clue lies in one of my over-used phrases of the moment: "Your mileage may vary". It seems this is the pinch of salt I should take with standard gardening guidance.

How my mileage varies

Part of the reason for this blog is to document the weirdness I've experienced with gardening. I am after all the woman who has failed many attempts to successfully grow Nasturtiums - the plant so allegedly fool proof they're in the kiddies seeds section, next to My First Watering Can & the Ladybird Sand Pit. My gardening success is on par with chance.

But these days I'm beginning to look beyond the glossy photos, gorgeous cinematography & my "shiny! shiny!" plant-lust. I am starting to hear a little more clearly the caveats with which the journos pepper their stories:

...likes acid soil...

yeah, it might help to know where our soil is on the pH scale. I've read that self-testing kits are useless, but do folk really pay to get their soil tested?

The alternative to testing is the "what already grows well?" rule of thumb. We have a happy Rhododendron, we have heathers too, & a history of conifers, so I'm guessing we're on the acid side.

...tolerates partial shade...

so would actually prefer full sun...?

...is fully hardy...

I'm here to tell you that fully hardy for Northumberland is not the same as fully hardy for Kent.

...Bay is not fully hardy in the UK...

Well the one we have, & the one my Aunt has in the Midlands, & the one in the grounds of Moorbank Botanic Garden clearly missed that memo.

The appliance of science

So how does this rambling ranty diversion relate to the beleaguered Strawbs? Good question! Let's apply some science:

How were previous harvests?

Fine.
A bit of snail damage,
but plenty of fruit for us all.

What was different that year?

Pruned the Aquilegias.

Any other changes?

Nope.

Hypothesis?

The leafy bases of the Aquilegias
in some way hid the Strawbs
from the snails.

Is this sounding a bit crazy?

Yep, but what else is there?

Have snails got great vision?

Or is it a scent thing?

Do we need a "Why?" yet/at all?

Spose not. Yet.

Shall we test the hypothesis?

Let's!

Do you talk to yourself like this all the time.

Yes.

What of it?

Weirdo...

Plan becomes action

So last year, I largely left the Aquilegias alone.


Peek-a-boo, I see you...

They flowered, they set seed. I trimmed back the seed stems before their heads burst cos, as pretty as they are, we have plenty. But I left the leaves alone, allowing them to die back at their own pace.

The result?

Good harvest! The pollinators had no problem finding the Strawberry flowers but the snails barely found the fruit, & the fruit didn't seem to need direct sunlight to ripen.

Yay science!

Will the same method work 2 years in a row? Well the 1st fruits are starting to set right now, so we'll know really soon...