Cedar apple rust on my serviceberry

The dark blue normal fruit of the serviceberry, along with one infected with Cedar apple rust

It seems to be an OMG summer. Unusual things are happening after all the rain of spring 2011 – including a problem on my usually problem-free serviceberry (Amelanchier).

OMG, what's that? …was my reaction on seeing the intriguing spikes growing out of the berries above. In more than a decade of cohabitation, I've never seen my serviceberry tree perform such an interesting permutation. Not only on one berry, but many. Once collected, they left a red dust.

Google is often my friend in such situations. My problem was revealed to be cedar apple rust.

Blame the wet spring for this fungal disease that attacks members of the large rose family, including apples and serviceberry. It's a disease that requires two hosts to survive, hence "cedar apple" in the name. As both hosts must be present, it pays to consider plant pairings to avoid infection.

Interestingly, the "cedar" at fault isn't what Canadians call cedar and Americans call arborvitae – trees in the Thuja family. It's juniper (Juniperus), which despite having a perfectly good name of its own is sometimes called Eastern red cedar. Neither are directly related to the true cedars, Cedrus, which include the Cedar of Lebanon. Then, of course, there are "cedars" among the Chamaecyparis and…

Well, common names can be misleading. Technically, I guess, this should be Rosa-Juniperus rust. But there you go.

Scrutiny of my only juniper (an ancient 'Blue Rug') didn't reveal evidence of the cedar side of the ménage à deux, but I'll be watching for the yellow, gelatinous, alien-looking form next spring.

The telltale signs of Cedar-Hawthorn Rust

Ain't nature marvellous?

[UPDATE: With its long, cool, wet preamble of spring, 2011 seems to be the summer for Gymnosporangium fungi, which cause a variety of rusts. Check out our September 2011 post on Pear Trellis Rust. I've also added a shot at right of what this rust family looks like on hawthorn trees (Crataegus), when of course it is known as Cedar-Hawthorn Rust. In all cases, the "cedar" host is actually Juniper. ]

Meet the Clavate tortoise beetle

Clavate tortoise beetle on a chewed potato leaf. Note that teddybear shape on its back.

Noticing some pellet holes in my potato leaves, I wondered if we'd been hit by flea beetles. Then I saw what looked like a small fleck of bird droppings on the leaf. When flicked, it moved.

That's when I first met what has turned out to be the Clavate tortoise beetle (Plagiometriona clavata – and other names), which feeds on the leaves of the nightshade family, including tomatoes, potatoes and eggplant. It seems to be a relatively uncommon, common pest. Most links I've found simply suggest hand picking and squashing, which is what I've done.

If you notice leaf damage on plants in this family, take a look for this fella or his odd-looking nymph. You might meet something new, too.

Toronto artists in the garden

Sculptor, Marilyn Walsh, with her work

I've really enjoyed seeing art by local artists showcased on recent garden tours.

In one of the gardens, the owner told me that the goal is to match the right piece with the right place. In fact, the placement in the garden sometimes feels so natural, it's only after noticing similar pieces repeated more than once on the tour that it clicks: hey, this is an extended art show.

Yet it's an art show with a difference – context. By viewing the artwork in situ, you can see for yourself not only that a well-chosen piece of art can enhance a garden space, but that the space itself can provide a unique frame that enhances the art. It's a perfect partnership.

Last month, a number of gardens on the Beach Garden Tour exhibited works by two Toronto artists: metalwork by Tod Waring and bronze sculpture by Marilyn Walsh [marilyn_walsh (at) rogers.com] – seen at right in one of the featured gardens.

Here is a show and tell with just a few of my favourites on the tour.

A "winged Victory" bronze by Marilyn Walsh accents a fountain

A contemplative bust by Walsh in a quiet corner

Tod Waring's hummingbirds lent whimsy to a couple of the gardens. Love the red against the blue here.

A cluster of wind sculptures by Waring, adding treelike height and animation along an expanse of fencing. 

A bouquet of flowers by Waring planted in an unclaimed spot. I also liked them planted in a line, snugly against a white driveway wall.