Gnats gotta go
Every morning around 9, I sit in the chair by the patio door and practice guitar. Lately, I’ve been only a few minutes into the strumming sessions when they arrive, uninvited and annoying.
Gnats the size of the dot on this i approach from the right, hovering near my hand and bobbing in front of my eyes. I swat with my strumming hand, or elbow them away and they come back around. There are not many – maybe five or so for each practice session – but they are persistent.
And they only come ’round when I’m in that chair playing guitar.
Some sleuthing was in order. I actually googled, “Does guitar music attract bugs?” and found that, yes, some insects react to music, although no studies have concluded that guitar music specifically is a draw. Further, nothing said that bad guitar music is more likely to bring them out.
I wondered if I’d left a banana peel by the chair? No, and no wet sneakers or anything smelly like that. A rodent? No. Had Smoothie the Sheltie dog somehow ensconced a crop of fleas that I’d somehow missed? No.
And then I saw it, and once I saw it it was obvious. There in my guitar corner stands a fiddle leaf fig (given that name because the leaves are shaped like violins) – a real one and not a silk one. And I say “real” and not “live” because to call it live would be hyperbole.
The plant has been with me since I moved here almost three years ago, having arrived in a tall box at my doorstep, a housewarming gift to myself. The plants love a sunny window and they like to be ignored by the watering can, so that plant seemed like a good fit.
And it was, until recently when I noticed the leaves at the bottom were dry and had dark brown spots. I pulled them off, repotted the whole thing and waited. I let the potting soil go dry before I watered again. But soon, the bottom leaves were getting holes. The poor thing was struggling.
My anxiety is such that when the rest of my world feels out of control, I spend my worry on one thing: for a while there it was the strange noise my dishwasher was making; next, the weird pain in my left foot. Eventually, all the attention was focused on the fig plant and I am now determined to save it.
And of course, the gnats were coming from the plant. They can live on the leaves, but I found none there. They were coming from the soil; either some bug came into the house and laid eggs there, or more likely, the gnats rode in with the repotting soil.
There are about eight different products that might get rid of them. I ordered one of each on Amazon. Some are easy, like spraying with a special oil or wiping the leaves down with a soapy mixture. Some are more expensive and time consuming, including replanting it in a much larger pot with special clay draining stones and compost.
It would be easier to let the plant die and start over with a new one. I could buy another for less than what it will cost to save this one from dying – and rid my guitar corner from the gnats.
The gnats are probably at least helping to kill the plant, and they’re killing my bluegrass guitar vibe. I’m never going to improve my strumming if I’m constantly swatting bugs. I’m not giving up my guitar corner. It’s me or the gnats. Me and the fig.