For many years, Boston ferns hung in baskets along my front porch, from spring into fall. I enjoyed their graceful foliage spilling over the edges of their plastic containers. I watered them diligently, especially during the hottest part of summer, and they rewarded me with lush fronds that waved to me as I pulled into the drive at the end of each day. Then one summer, the ferns became infested with tiny caterpillars that quickly ravaged them, leaving behind containers of nothing but long skinny sticks.
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