<p class="bodytext">If you ask me what constitutes a truly healthy garden, I won’t point to perfect blooms or glossy foliage. The true measure is found in the quiet hum of bees, the flutter of butterfly wings and the meticulous activity of wasps building their nests. The recent news about dwindling bee populations impacting onion growers emphasises how important these ties that go beyond our garden boundaries are.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I started a logbook early on to track sowing and plant growth. As the garden grew, I noticed insects, bees, and butterflies. Recording their behaviour, plant preferences, and seasonal patterns revealed fascinating relationships.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Many come regularly, others annually, and some seem to make my garden their home to feed, reproduce, and raise their young. Blue triangle butterflies with rattlepods, jade butterflies with mast trees, and emigrants to <span class="italic">Hamelia patens</span> arrive when their host plants are at their peak. <span class="italic">Apis indica</span> bees emerge in sync with Calliandra. I realised a garden had a rhythm no human designer could orchestrate.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Let me present some of the regular pollinators from my log. The Indian honeybee (<span class="italic">Apis cerana indica</span>) lives alongside its relatives, the dwarf honeybee (<span class="italic">Apis florea</span>) and giant rock bee (<span class="italic">Apis dorsata</span>). Blue-banded bees (<span class="italic">Amegilla cingulata</span>) dart between blooms, their iridescent stripes flashing in the sunlight. Bee flies (<span class="italic">Bombyliidae</span>), which resemble bees, hover like hummingbirds, using their long proboscis to sip nectar from flowers. Then there are tiny, often overlooked visitors like sweat bees (Lasioglossum species) and stingless bees (Tetragonula species) that diligently work the blossoms. Carpenter bees drill precise holes in wood. Leaf-cutter bees trim perfect semicircles to construct their nests. Cuckoo bees show up, a clever parasite that lays its eggs in others’ nests. Their presence isn’t random. It means that the garden offers what they need: nectar, nesting spaces, and safety.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Though feared, wasps are vital pollinators. They feed on nectar and help control pests. Perhaps the most charming of them is the potter wasp. Watch one gather mud from your yard, mix it with water it carries in its jaw and shape it into a tiny, symmetrical pot. It is a miniature marvel of architecture. When a potter wasp chooses your garden soil, take it as a compliment; it’s a sign of healthy, living earth.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I understand the reluctance to allow bees and wasps in gardens with children around. In my experience, these insects sting only when threatened or when their nest is disturbed. Resist the instinct to swat. Watch them from a distance. Use the zoom on your mobile for a close-up. If you’re still concerned, consider creating sitting areas away from the flowers that attract bees. You’ll soon notice these creatures care far more about your plants than about you.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Even beetles, the earth’s most diverse insect order, pollinate older, fragrant flowers like Sampige (<span class="italic">Magnolia champaca</span>). From tiny sunbirds hovering at flowers to larger species such as the common pheasant, which control insect populations and disperse seeds, birds complete this symphony of pollinators. The interconnections are endless and fascinating.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Take our flowering avenue trees: copper pods, rain trees, gulmohar, and <span class="italic">Tabebuia rosea</span>. These act as pollinator corridors, helping bees navigate the city by providing continuous stretches of nectar and pollen. When these trees are felled in the name of development, we don’t just lose shade and beauty, we also sever bee corridors. Pollinators are pushed to find new habitats. And that ripple effect can reach farms, like those onion fields now struggling without enough bees.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Of course, my small garden won’t fix the pollination crisis in an onion field hundreds of kilometres away. But by observing these insects and sharing what I learn, I hope more people will create their own pollinator sanctuaries.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Whether it’s balcony pots or sprawling yards, if you want a pollinator-friendly garden, choose flowering plants like cosmos, pentas, tulasi, petunia, zinnia, and marigolds that bloom in succession across seasons. Start small, and add as you grow. Avoid chemical pesticides, they don’t just kill pests; they wipe out allies too. Provide a water source, even a birdbath or a lily pond will do.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A garden full of pollinators may not always be the tidiest. But it is without question the most alive. Its health isn’t measured by symmetry or control, but by how much life it invites and sustains. And when we garden for pollinators, we’re not just growing plants, we’re helping sustain the very web of life that feeds our world.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Motley Garden</span> <span class="italic">is your monthly kaleidoscopic view into a sustainable garden ecosystem. Write in with your garden queries and stories at allthingsinmygarden@gmail.com</span></p>
<p class="bodytext">If you ask me what constitutes a truly healthy garden, I won’t point to perfect blooms or glossy foliage. The true measure is found in the quiet hum of bees, the flutter of butterfly wings and the meticulous activity of wasps building their nests. The recent news about dwindling bee populations impacting onion growers emphasises how important these ties that go beyond our garden boundaries are.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I started a logbook early on to track sowing and plant growth. As the garden grew, I noticed insects, bees, and butterflies. Recording their behaviour, plant preferences, and seasonal patterns revealed fascinating relationships.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Many come regularly, others annually, and some seem to make my garden their home to feed, reproduce, and raise their young. Blue triangle butterflies with rattlepods, jade butterflies with mast trees, and emigrants to <span class="italic">Hamelia patens</span> arrive when their host plants are at their peak. <span class="italic">Apis indica</span> bees emerge in sync with Calliandra. I realised a garden had a rhythm no human designer could orchestrate.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Let me present some of the regular pollinators from my log. The Indian honeybee (<span class="italic">Apis cerana indica</span>) lives alongside its relatives, the dwarf honeybee (<span class="italic">Apis florea</span>) and giant rock bee (<span class="italic">Apis dorsata</span>). Blue-banded bees (<span class="italic">Amegilla cingulata</span>) dart between blooms, their iridescent stripes flashing in the sunlight. Bee flies (<span class="italic">Bombyliidae</span>), which resemble bees, hover like hummingbirds, using their long proboscis to sip nectar from flowers. Then there are tiny, often overlooked visitors like sweat bees (Lasioglossum species) and stingless bees (Tetragonula species) that diligently work the blossoms. Carpenter bees drill precise holes in wood. Leaf-cutter bees trim perfect semicircles to construct their nests. Cuckoo bees show up, a clever parasite that lays its eggs in others’ nests. Their presence isn’t random. It means that the garden offers what they need: nectar, nesting spaces, and safety.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Though feared, wasps are vital pollinators. They feed on nectar and help control pests. Perhaps the most charming of them is the potter wasp. Watch one gather mud from your yard, mix it with water it carries in its jaw and shape it into a tiny, symmetrical pot. It is a miniature marvel of architecture. When a potter wasp chooses your garden soil, take it as a compliment; it’s a sign of healthy, living earth.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I understand the reluctance to allow bees and wasps in gardens with children around. In my experience, these insects sting only when threatened or when their nest is disturbed. Resist the instinct to swat. Watch them from a distance. Use the zoom on your mobile for a close-up. If you’re still concerned, consider creating sitting areas away from the flowers that attract bees. You’ll soon notice these creatures care far more about your plants than about you.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Even beetles, the earth’s most diverse insect order, pollinate older, fragrant flowers like Sampige (<span class="italic">Magnolia champaca</span>). From tiny sunbirds hovering at flowers to larger species such as the common pheasant, which control insect populations and disperse seeds, birds complete this symphony of pollinators. The interconnections are endless and fascinating.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Take our flowering avenue trees: copper pods, rain trees, gulmohar, and <span class="italic">Tabebuia rosea</span>. These act as pollinator corridors, helping bees navigate the city by providing continuous stretches of nectar and pollen. When these trees are felled in the name of development, we don’t just lose shade and beauty, we also sever bee corridors. Pollinators are pushed to find new habitats. And that ripple effect can reach farms, like those onion fields now struggling without enough bees.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Of course, my small garden won’t fix the pollination crisis in an onion field hundreds of kilometres away. But by observing these insects and sharing what I learn, I hope more people will create their own pollinator sanctuaries.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Whether it’s balcony pots or sprawling yards, if you want a pollinator-friendly garden, choose flowering plants like cosmos, pentas, tulasi, petunia, zinnia, and marigolds that bloom in succession across seasons. Start small, and add as you grow. Avoid chemical pesticides, they don’t just kill pests; they wipe out allies too. Provide a water source, even a birdbath or a lily pond will do.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A garden full of pollinators may not always be the tidiest. But it is without question the most alive. Its health isn’t measured by symmetry or control, but by how much life it invites and sustains. And when we garden for pollinators, we’re not just growing plants, we’re helping sustain the very web of life that feeds our world.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Motley Garden</span> <span class="italic">is your monthly kaleidoscopic view into a sustainable garden ecosystem. Write in with your garden queries and stories at allthingsinmygarden@gmail.com</span></p>