This month’s lesson from my three raised-bed community garden plots centers on discovery.
For a few weeks, I noticed the tips of my tomato plants were disappearing. I assumed the neighborhood deer had stopped by for a snack, so I sprayed deer repellent. But the problem continued—more leaves vanished, cherry tomatoes had bites taken out of them, and strange dark pellets appeared on the sideboards.
Then, one morning while watering, I spotted movement among the tomato branches. It was a well-camouflaged green caterpillar, about an inch and a half long, posing as part of the stem. Realizing I had an unexpected guest, I grabbed a towel and struggled to pull the little guy from the branch. He had a firm grip, but eventually I dislodged him and placed him in a bucket for further investigation.
Enter ChatGPT. I uploaded a photo of the wiggly intruder and quickly learned I was hosting a Tobacco Hawk Moth caterpillar—a creature I’d never seen or heard of. Wikipedia gave me the Latin name and lineage. Further questions to ChatGPT revealed the best way to protect my tomatoes: manually remove the caterpillars when spotted. Easier said than done. They’re masters of disguise, but apparently, they hate water. A good spray makes them squirm out of hiding.
A closer look revealed my original visitor had invited four relatives to the feast.
When I mentioned this to other gardeners nearby, they too discovered the caterpillar’s extended family munching on their tomato plants. But what struck me most was one gardener’s response: “Oh, that’s okay. I planted extra—more than we can eat.”
What a beautiful perspective—a mindset of abundance. There’s enough for everyone when we simply plant a little extra and share the harvest.