A Difficult July in the Garden: Heat, Beetles and Learning to Adapt

July has been a difficult month in the garden. Prolonged heat, very little rain and several pest problems have arrived at roughly the same time. My own reduced mobility has also meant that I have not been able to move around the garden or respond as quickly as I normally would.

This is not a story of failure. It is a record of what is happening, how the garden is responding and what I am learning from a season that has forced me to slow down and observe more carefully.

The heat changes everything

Temperatures have repeatedly approached 40°C, while June brought only around 35 mm of rain. In these conditions, the garden does not behave normally. Soil surfaces dry quickly, plants close down during the hottest part of the day and watering becomes a question of keeping crops alive rather than encouraging perfect growth.

Shade from neighbouring plants has become increasingly valuable. So has keeping the soil covered. The difference between exposed ground and protected soil is visible within hours, particularly on our sandy soil. This season has reinforced my belief that future gardens will need to be designed around resilience rather than appearance alone.

Two very different beetle problems

The first serious damage came from flea beetles. These tiny insects attacked the brassicas and left the leaves full of small holes. Some young plants were unable to recover. Their size makes them easy to underestimate, but they can destroy vulnerable crops surprisingly quickly.

Then came the blister beetles. They first gathered on wild plants, particularly amaranth and related weeds, before moving onto beetroot and later reaching tomatoes and peppers. Their behaviour has been as interesting as the damage: they gather in large groups, often drop to the ground when disturbed and become far more active as the temperature rises.

I have used neem carefully where crops needed protection, but I am also watching what happens naturally. Large groups of starlings recently arrived and fed in the areas where the beetles had been most active. Afterwards, I struggled to find any beetles at all. It may not be the end of the outbreak, but it is a reminder that the garden is an ecosystem, not simply a collection of crops.

A locust problem nearby

A few kilometres away, other family members and their neighbours have faced a separate problem with locusts. The surrounding grassland had been heavily grazed by cattle until very little vegetation remained, and the insects then moved towards the gardens in search of food.

This has not yet become the same problem here, but it is close enough to watch carefully. Grasshoppers are already common in the recently harvested field beside us. Birds remain one of the most important natural predators, and the large numbers of starlings moving through the area may prove valuable for more than one reason. At the moment, observation is more useful than panic. We need to understand what is actually happening before deciding how to respond.

The wider landscape is under pressure

The effects of heat and drought extend far beyond the vegetable garden. There have been several wildfires in the region, and the surrounding fields are dry enough for any fire to spread quickly. Water use is becoming a more serious concern, particularly where wells draw from the same underground reserves.

These conditions change how I think about the garden. It is no longer sensible to assume that unlimited watering will solve every problem. We need soil that holds moisture, crops that can tolerate short periods of stress and growing spaces small enough to manage properly. Resilience may sometimes mean growing less, but growing it more thoughtfully.

When the gardener has to slow down

Recent problems with my knee have limited how far I can walk and how easily I can move around the growing areas. I have not been able to film, inspect crops or respond to problems in the way I normally would. That has been frustrating, but it has also exposed which parts of the garden demand too much time and physical effort.

This experience supports a decision I was already considering: reducing the overall growing area and concentrating on spaces I can manage well. That is not giving up. A smaller, more resilient garden may produce more useful food than a larger garden that becomes overwhelming during difficult weather or periods of poor health. Gardening should support our lives, not become another burden we feel unable to carry.

What happens next

The blister beetle story is not finished. I will continue monitoring the crops, looking for new groups and watching whether the birds keep their numbers under control. I also want to examine the soil later in the year and consider whether limited cultivation could expose eggs or larvae to predators without unnecessarily disturbing the whole garden.

The coming seasons will include more ground cover, greater plant diversity and smaller growing spaces that are easier to protect and water. I will continue recording what happens—not only what works, but also what fails and what changes unexpectedly.

That is the purpose of this diary. Gardening in uncertain conditions is not about pretending we have complete control. It is about observing honestly, adapting calmly and carrying what we learn into the next season.

I use Your Growing Companion to keep these observations, growing spaces and seasonal changes together in one place. If you would find the same kind of practical record useful in your own garden, you can explore the app here.