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I have found these thingies in my institute at Tiruchchirapalli in India. I have no idea what they are:
Can someone tell me what they are, exactly?
They look like seeds from palm trees. It reminds me of seeds from Phoenix canariensis which I once planted. However, since this particular species is not native to India, they could be seeds from another Phoenix palm species. Do you have Phoenix palm species in your area in India?
What Makes Worm Cocoons Hatch?
A little while ago one of our readers, Mario, sent me an email asking how he could get some Red Worm cocoons to hatch. I suggested adding them to some moistened bedding (shredded cardboard, newsprint etc), and then adding a small amount of food waste (I suggested an apple core, I believe). Well, as it turns out, Mario did indeed follow my advice and – long story short – ended up with lots of little wigglers in his mini bin.
This got me thinking…(uh oh! haha)
I’ve always been curious about the factors leading to the hatching of worm cocoons – specifically those of composting species, so the results of Mario’s little experiment have provided me with more than enough inspiration to finally start testing things out for myself (thanks, Mario!).
One thing I’ve noticed in my own systems is that periods of cold, and then warming seems to really increase hatching rates – a prime example of course would be in the spring time, when loads of baby worms start appearing in outdoor beds. I have also noticed this when bringing materials inside late in the fall (there seems to be an abundance of tiny worms in the material not too long after it warms up).
All of this kind of makes sense when you think about it. Red Worms tend to breed a lot as temperatures drop, so presumably the number of cocoons would be increasing at this time. In unprotected habitats, a fair number (if not all) of adults would likely die during the winter, so all these cocoons would be important in terms of the overall survival of the population.
Apart from temperature, I am also curious about moisture content and food/habitat. Will the worms hatch out more readily in cardboard or a mix of cardboard and food waste? If the results of my Cocoon Challenge” (link will take you to listing of related posts) experiments are any indication, I have a sneaking suspicion that I know the answer to that one.
Thankfully, I happen to have access to loads of Red Worm cocoons at the moment, so I should be able to test out a LOT of different scenarios. If you have any ideas/suggestions, be sure to add a comment!
I will of course write about this again once I have my first test(s) up and running.
What is a spittlebug?
The spittlebug is a tiny (hardly 2 cm long) insect that belongs to the order of true bugs&mdashHemiptera&mdashand the superfamily Cercopoidea. These little guys are plant pests, like their relatives, aphids and cicadas.
Like so many mysterious beings, the spittlebug has an alias. &ldquoSpittlebug&rdquo is only the name of the larvae, or nymphs, as entomologists might insist we call them, that encases itself in a foamy home. The adults are called frog hoppers, because they look like frogs and can jump as high as 70 cms, which is very impressive, considering these little fellows are only a few centimeters long.
However, just because the adult has the name froghopper doesn&rsquot mean that the juvenile versions can&rsquot hop. A spittlebug can actually jump over 100 times its own length!
On the left is a spittlebug, and on the right is the froghopper. (Photo Credit : Sandra Standbridge & Suburban Bugs/Shutterstock)
There are many species of spittlebugs with different plant hosts, lifestyles (the spittlebug is a huge fan of detox juices and clean eating), and appearance.
The adults lay their eggs in autumn, and by spring, the little nymph spittlebugs are ready to molt into froghoppers.
Spittlebugs feed on water running through the plant&rsquos xylem vessels. The xylem vessels carry water absorbed by the roots to the rest of the plant. The other nutrient-carrying vessels in plants are called phloem tubes. Phloem transports the sugary food made by the leaves through photosynthesis to the rest of the plant.
It is the water from the xylem tubes that allows spittlebugs to make their homes.
By Thomas Chatterton Williams
In his 1943 book, ‘‘Liberté, liberté chérie,’’ Pierre Mendès-France recounts the various waves of flight that marked the exodus from Paris in the spring of 1940, at the dawn of the German occupation. ‘‘In the early days, we saw fast and sumptuous American cars driven by liveried chauffeurs,’’ he writes. These were followed by the ‘‘less shiny, less new’’ vehicles of the middle classes, which were in turn followed days later by caravans of jalopies, eventually abandoned by the roadside, ‘‘their owners continuing on foot to the next town, then by train, bicycle, or hitchhiking.’’ Next came the cyclists — ‘‘mostly young, often carefree’’ — then the pedestrians, ‘‘sometimes whole families, the man with a rucksack on his shoulder, the woman pushing a cart or baby carriage.’’ Later came the stragglers, ‘‘overwhelmed, feet bloodied.’’ Finally, there were the horse-drawn carriages driven by peasants, ‘‘laden with sick people, children, old people, agricultural equipment and furniture,’’ he writes. ‘‘Sometimes livestock walked alongside them, including cows and horses.’’
Plus ça change. It wasn’t nearly so frenetic, but on March 16 my wife and I, along with our two small children and whatever clothes, books and toys we could think to grab, ordered a taxi across an empty Paris and joined a crush of masked travelers at the Gare Montparnasse. As we idled under the LCD screens, waiting anxiously for the arrival of the trains that would shoot out of the station to various destinations along the country’s western reaches, I was aware that we were all of us re-enacting a scene that has played out over and over again throughout this city’s dramatic history.
The day we left, after a week of growing alarm over the spread of the novel coronavirus and decreasing freedom in the attempt to limit the contagion, starting with the closure of schools and swiftly followed by the shuttering of all nonessential businesses, President Emmanuel Macron was scheduled to address the nation in the evening. He would, as many expected, soon order total home confinement. The only question for anyone with options was where to go to endure it. We barely had a chance to contemplate our decision.
The day before we ended up leaving, it was our stroke of good fortune to be having lunch with a couple who have their own young children and an acquaintance in government kind enough to give them advance warning. These friends patiently impressed upon us the severity of what was about to happen. We were going to be housebound for the next 15 days, very likely longer. Our friends would be leaving in a few hours for their family home near the Atlantic. Would we like to hunker down with them? At least this way the kids would have a yard to expand into. Once the order was made official, it would be much more difficult to move around the country. I grabbed my friend’s laptop and reserved what appeared to be four of the last tickets available to La Baule-Escoublac before confinement, departing the following morning.
Our decision was a common one. Le Parisien reported that ‘‘more than a million residents left the Paris region before confinement,’’ based on geolocation data collected by Orange, the country’s largest mobile-phone service provider. The company’s chief executive estimated that from March 13 to March 20, a staggering 17 percent of the population of Paris and its neighboring suburbs decamped to their country houses, of which there exist some 3.4 million around the nation.
Contemplating these figures and their implications, I was reminded of the architectural historian James S. Ackerman’s 1990 classic, ‘‘The Villa: Form and Ideology of Country Houses,’’ and its famous description of the significance of the secondary residence in an urbanized society. Noting that the ‘‘basic program of the villa’’ has remained unchanged since Roman times, Ackerman offers an explanation: ‘‘It fills a need that never alters, a need which, because it is not material but psychological and ideological, is not subject to the influences of evolving societies and technologies. The villa accommodates a fantasy which is impervious to reality.’’ And though it exists as a respite from the city, the villa ‘‘cannot be understood apart from the city’’ — its meaning derives from what it is not.
Few, if any, European societies are as centralized as France. Almost a full fifth of the French population lives in the Paris metropolitan area. In terms of cultural and economic dominance, Paris, still Europe’s fashion capital, also combines the functions and prestige of Wall Street, Hollywood and Washington — all in one location. Despite various attempts over the years to decentralize the state, the inhabitants of the city lord over the rest of France to an extent that is similar but distinct from the divide between ‘‘real’’ America and its coastal elite. Despite extravagantly rich and diverse geographical blessings, from snow-capped Alpine slopes to crystalline Mediterranean shores and the exquisite soils of Champagne and Bordeaux, since monarchical times, the country has principally understood itself along a simple binary: Paris/province. Recently, such cultural and political insolubility has provoked serious societal consequences. First came more than a solid year of Yellow Vest protests and riots, which, in Paris, sometimes had the feel of a furious guerrilla war being waged on the town by the country. Now we have Covid-19, and though France provides a safety net that precludes the spectacular kind of degradation and suffering currently on display in America, few seem to believe that we’re truly all in this together.
On top of it all — or as a fundamental aspect of this imbalanced relationship — there is that unusually high proportion of second-home ownership (even if it’s worth noting that these homes, while lovely, are typically modest). In times of crisis, whether man-made or the result of the pestilent ‘‘flail of God,’’ as Camus so memorably phrased it, Parisians who can are wont to chase their safety to the provinces. Fleeing Paris is a collective, inherited reflex. And as Mendès-France’s account lays bare, whatever else they are, such stories of escape are always accounts of privilege — with regard to the position of the capital in relation to the rest of the country, as well as the internal hierarchy of its inhabitants.
As a parisien d’adoption, I am only semicognizant of where I may fit at any given time into the French social fabric. As a foreigner compelled by an epidemic to abandon my home — an exile twice over — it is difficult, if necessary, for me to think of myself as part of this other, overarching dynamic. Traveling through France in regular times, for better or worse, I am simply perceived as an American. But now it’s different. My family has inadvertently participated in a larger, possibly exploitative interaction that has sown resentment among some residents of the rural areas we have infiltrated. The locals we’ve met have been mostly welcoming and generous, though it’s hard to say to what degree that’s because the fear that Parisians would spread the virus ultimately proved unfounded. In those infrequent but memorable instances in which a neighbor declines a ‘‘bonjour,’’ and for the first time I can remember, I think I do detect my wife and friends being perceived the way that I can be viewed — not as natives but as interlopers in this land.
La Baule-Escoublac, the nearby seaside resort we had come through from Paris, counted 10 refugees for every inhabitant during the last mass exodus 80 years ago. As fearsome as Covid-19 is, it is not the Nazis. Still, the mayor of La Baule, Yves Métaireau, estimated that the population had swelled to more than 40,000 inhabitants from 17,000. After nearly a decade of expatriate ambivalence, imagining myself not so much a resident of France as a ‘‘trans-Atlantic commuter,’’ to use James Baldwin’s phrase — with one foot in this society and one foot out — in exercising this authentically Parisian need to escape, it feels as though, suddenly, I’ve had my position here solidified. Mandatory confinement is scheduled to expire on May 11, but neither my wife nor I is so inclined to return to the city right away. We take turns scouring the internet for houses in the country to rent — a thoroughly Parisian activity these days. The pandemic is forcing more and more of us to reconsider just where we belong.
On a recent afternoon, as my friend and I were waiting a safe distance behind the next person in line to enter the new organic market and scrolling through work emails, he looked up suddenly and remarked that this time away had put a few things in perspective: Maybe it wasn’t all that necessary to live in Paris after all. We’d already laughed at the fact that we’d gotten in the habit of spotting and mentally separating ourselves from the conspicuous new arrivals who flooded the area over the Easter break. A monthlong string of sun-drenched days was still going strong, and at that moment, I tended to agree with him. I wondered how many of the million-plus Parisians scattered around the country were thinking the same thing.
An earlier version of this article misstated the date of Pierre Mendès France's book “Liberté, liberté chérie.” It was published in 1943, not 1977.
Illustration by Brian Rea.
Thomas Chatterton Williams is a contributing writer for the magazine and a Distinguished Visiting Fellow at the Hannah Arendt Center at Bard College. His last feature was about the director Jacques Audiard. Brian Rea is an artist in Los Angeles. His book “Death Wins a Goldfish” was published last year.
Since at least 1679, English speakers have been using the noun "cocoon" for the silky covering that surrounds a caterpillar or other insect larva in the pupa stage of metamorphosis. The word came into English from French, which in turn borrowed it from an Occitan term for "eggshell." Linguists believe the Occitan term was probably born of the Latin coccum, a noun that has been translated as "kermes," the dried bodies of some insects that can be found on certain trees. The verb "cocoon" has been with us since at least 1881.
What Do Female Bees Do?
All honey bee workers are female. These workers change the tasks they do as they age—kind of how we change what we do as we get older: first we stay at home, then we go to school and then work. Young honey bee workers first do tasks inside the nest like take care of the queen and young larvae. Young bees also produce wax from glands on their abdomens and build all of the structures you see in the nest. How long each bee works at a certain job will change depending upon the needs of the colony. Usually after a few weeks inside the nest, workers will transition to outside tasks and take their first flight. The last task a honey bee worker performs is foraging. Forager bees leave the nest and collect nectar, pollen and water.
Adult honey bee foragers will usually live another 30 days after they begin foraging, about 51 days in total. This is because foraging is one of the most dangerous tasks in the colony. Outside the nest foragers are exposed to all the dangers of the outside world. They could be attacked by predators, lose their way back home, get caught in a wind storm, fall victim to diseases or pesticides in the environment, or any number of other dangers. In the winter when the worker bees huddle inside the nest for warmth, they can live for over 6 months.
The Slow-Cooked Sentence
Rachael Conlin Levy
Series of self-portraits with youngest child, 2014.
The overwhelming desire to nurture is shared among all living things and manifested in countless ways, said cell biologist Ursula Goodenough.
Parental instincts of tenderness, warmth and protectiveness span time and species, from the thousands of exhausted parents and weakened children seeking to cross our southern border, to the unprecedented mourning displayed by an orca whale when her calf died this past summer, to the selfless acts of a 19th-Century mother driven by unimaginable grief and deep love to continue her daughter’s work after her death.
In Goodenough’s 1998 book “The Sacred Depths of Nature,” which is both a refresher in biology 101 and an exploration of religious naturalism, she wrote:
“It seems likely that the emotional circuits invoked when we contemplate our deep evolutionary affinity with other creatures, and when we are infused with compassion, will turn out to map closely onto the circuits that drive our parental instincts.”
Driven to protect and provide for our offspring, we endure physical hardship, financial sacrifice, and intellectual challenge. These characteristics motivated the actions of Virginia Jones when her daughter died unexpectedly from typhoid fever more than 100 years ago. In an effort to honor her daughter, an amateur ornithologist and self-taught artist, Jones overcame her ignorance of birds, learned the rigorous and demanding art of scientific illustration, and suffered physically as she completed her daughter’s work, which would have lasting scientific value.
The power of parental instincts like sacrifice and devotion, as well as evidence that the emotions cross species, are regular themes in today’s news where a caravan of families seeking a brighter future for their children forced the federal government to close, and a record-breaking emotional journey of an orca whale who had lost her calf was closely followed by my youngest son and the rest of the nation last summer.
“Plants go to great lengths to ensure that their fertilized ovules are surrounded with hardy seed coats and fruity tissues. Butterfly larvae snuggle in cocoons the social insects stagger out of disturbed nests with larvae in their mouths to carry to the next refuge. And the vertebrates, particularly the mammals and birds, have devised a stunning array of behaviors to assure the survival and maturation of their progeny.”
But with my last biology class taken as a college freshman, I had forgotten how the scientist connected the seed’s hard shell to an emotion like tenderness, and, finally, to a feeling called love.
My ignorance grew more evident over the winter holiday when I took children skiing and returned with a bruised rib and stiff neck. A series of restless nights followed. Unable to find a comfortable position in bed, I rolled slowly, achingly from side to side, each futile turn a recrimination of my best parenting instincts.
If one had questioned me at three in the morning where love resided in the body, I’d have grumbled that it lay in bruised flesh and aching bone. Although my rudimentary knowledge of biology failed at a response, it was sufficient answer to insomnia. I slept. Finally.
But waking, I recognized my need to brush up on biology, so returned to Goodenough.
Emotions, she reminded me, are the body’s response to outside circumstances, and something we share with most organisms. Even the single-cell amoeba can attach value to an object (this is good, that is bad), moving toward food and away from a threat, she said. More complex systems like a mouse or myself experience an emotion like fear through a rush of hormonal and neural changes, and we share similar responses to freeze, fight or flee. Goodenough wrote:
“Our basic emotional reactions are ancient and hardwired survival systems that mediate our behavioral interactions with the external world. … Feeling is a conscious response to the unconscious fact of having had an emotional system activated. When we speak of a ‘gut feeling,’ this can be very close to the truth.”
Many organisms, Goodenough explained, will attribute meaning to something they are aware of. In humans, this awareness manifests itself as an ability to think and act symbolically. While we share an emotion like fear with a mouse, scientists believe that humans are unique in experience the feeling of being frightened. This is self-awareness.
Goodenough conceded that most of us can accept why fear, which we think of as a “primitive” animal instinct, springs from the body’s neural and hormonal systems, but find it harder to grasp a neurobiological view of love. In “The Sacred Depths of Nature” she wrote:
“Neuroscientists in fact have as yet little to tell us about love or joy or astonishment, and they are unlikely to have much to say until they understand how consciousness (self-awareness) is produced in brains. But once this is understood, then it will doubtless be the case that all feelings, including those we consider most deeply human, will be found to be created the same way that other conscious experiences come about — by establishing a mental representation of the workings of underlying processing systems.”
The reductionist explanation of love comforted me. Elementary understanding could not diminish its magic.
The genetic motivation to nurture my children and set them up for success is a trait I share with most living organisms. While the acorn’s hard shell falls short of love, the nut and I are impelled to protect and provide for progeny, be it tree or child.
The undercurrents of love, sacrifice, and anxiety that directed my ski trip, and the subsequent emotions of protest and resentment, swell to epic levels in “Lady Bird,” a 2017 coming-of-age movie that included bruising scenes between mother Marion McPherson and her daughter, Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson.
Marion McPherson: Whatever we give you it’s never enough. It’s never enough!
Christine ‘Lady Bird’ McPherson: It is enough!
But for the first time since 1940, “enough” is as likely as not to ensure our children will have a future better than our own, according to a 2016 study by Harvard University economist Raj Chetty.
Chetty, who uses “big data” to understand how to give children from disadvantaged backgrounds better chances of succeeding, found that a fraction of children who will earn more than their parents (defined as absolute mobility) fell in all 50 states.
Although the rate of decline varied, with the largest declines concentrated in states in the industrial Midwest, such as Michigan and Illinois, the study found: “The decline in absolute mobility is especially steep – from 95 percent for children born in 1940 to 41 percent for children born in 1984 – when we compare the sons’ earnings to their fathers’ earnings.”
Motivated by this economic anxiety, modern-day parenting is “child-centered, expert-guided, emotionally absorbing, labor intensive and financially expensive,” The New York Times reported.
The amount of money parents spend on children, which used to peak when they were in high school, is now highest when they are under 6 and over 18 and into their mid-20s, the newspaper said.
As I read this I had an ah-ha! moment, reflecting on both the ski trip and the imminent financial obligation to support three children in college from a neurobiological point of view, thanks to Goodenough.
“We nurture our children selflessly. But we also recognize them as our most tangible sources of renewal.”
I have come to see that the hardship and risk endured by the migrant family to set up their children for success — even as the promise grows more elusive — illustrated the effort Goodenough said a species will make to ensure the “survival and maturation of their progeny.”
And I understand that the sadness expressed by both 19th-Century mother and orca whale is evidence that the complexity of grief is shared among mammals.
And I know the jolt that ran through ribs as I searched for sleep was parenting as it penetrates conscious awareness, a feeling, unique to humans, called love.
Choose the correct option.
Fibre is obtained from
(a) animals Silk is obtained from
(c) both(a) and (b)
(d) none of these
Silk is obtained from
Which one of the following is a wool-yielding animal?
(b) Angora goat
(d) All of these
Which of the following is not a wool-yielding animal?
(d) None of these
Yak wool is common in
Which of the following wool-yielding animal is suitable for making Pashmina shawls?
(a) Kashmiri goat
(b) Angora goat
Which of following breeds of Indian sheep is suitable for hosiery?
(d) None of these
Which of the following fibres are made into wool for sweaters?
(a) Shorter fibres
(b) Longer fibres
(c) Both (a) and (b)
(d) None of these
Which of the following article obtained from animal do not kill the animal?
(a) Leather jacket
(b) Silk saree
(c) Woollen shawl
(d) Ivory bangles
Which of the following is not a type of silk?
(a) Tassar silk
(b) Moth silk
(c) Mooga silk
(d) Mulberry silk
The caterpillars of silkworms feed on
(a) peepal leaves
(c) rose leaves
(d) mulberry leaves
Silk yarn is obtained from
(d) none of these
Silkworms secrete fibre made of
Wool is obtained from the _________ of sheep or yak.
A fabric is made up of_________ .
The fibres are spun into ________ and then it is woven into
Fibres can be obtained from both _________ and ________
The wool-yielding animals have _________ on their body.
The quality of wool depends upon the ________ of sheep.
The fine hair provides the fibres for making _________ .
Some breeds of sheep have only soft _________ .
Wool commonly available in the market is _________ wool.
Angora goats are found in _________ regions such as _________ .
Answer: hilly Jammu and Kashmir
Alpaca is found in _________ .
Marwari breed of sheep is found in _________ .
Nowadays scouring is done by _________ .
__________ of silk is the process of taking silk threads from cocoon.
Mooga is a type of ______
Rampur bushair breed of Indian sheep has carpet quality wool.
Coarse wool is obtained from Marwari breed sheep.
Wool is obtained from skin of sheep.
Separation of wool of different textures is called shearing.
In India, camels and goat are generally reared for obtaining wool.
Shearing hurts the sheep.
After sorting, scouring is done in the process of making fibres into wool.
Hair of wool yielding animals cannot trap air.
The fur on the body of camels is also used as wool.
Yak is not a wool yielding animal.
Burrs are the large fluffy fibres.
The hairs of camel, llama and alpaca are processed to yield wool.
Silk fibres are spun into silk threads.
Weavers weave silk threads into woollen cloth.
A pile of cocoons is used for obtaining silk fibres.
Match the items given in column I suitably with those given in column II.
|Column I||Column II|
|1. Camel wool||(a) Morus alba|
|2. Angora wool||(b) Cleaning wool|
|3. Kashmiri goat||(c) Cutting off wool|
|4. Sheep wool||(d) Baby blanket|
|5. Silkworm||(e) Anthrax|
|6. Mulberry tree||(f) Pashmina shawl|
|7. A disease||(g) Woollen carpet|
|8. Scouring||(h) Bombyx mori|
|9. Shearing||(i) Woolly covering|
|10. Fleece||(j) Woollen sweater|
|Column I||Column II|
|1. Camel wool||(g) Woollen carpet|
|2. Angora wool||(d) Baby blanket|
|3. Kashmiri goat||(f) Pashmina shawl|
|4. Sheep wool||(j) Woollen sweater|
|5. Silkworm||(h) Bombyx mori|
|6. Mulberry tree||(a) Morus alba|
|7. A disease||(e) Anthrax|
|8. Scouring||(b) Cleaning wool|
|9. Shearing||(c) Cutting off wool|
|10. Fleece||(i) Woolly covering|
Hope the information shed above regarding NCERT MCQ Questions for Class 7 Science Chapter 3 Fibre to Fabric with Answers Pdf free download has been useful to an extent. If you have any other queries of CBSE Class 7 Science Fibre to Fabric MCQs Multiple Choice Questions with Answers, feel free to reach us so that we can revert back to us at the earliest possible.
Those insects that are damaging the paddy plant from its seedling stage to crop production stage are known as insect pests of paddy. Insect pests are classified into two groups, such as major pests and minor pests. Of the various major pests, the stem borer insect is the most dangerous enemy to the paddy plant.
What is Stem Borer?
Stem borer (Scirpophaga) is a serious paddy pest in India, Pakistan, Burma, Sri Lanka, China, Japan Formosa, Philippines and Indonesia. So, in all the rice growing areas this insect or Moth pest is available. This moth causes the highest percentage of damage of the paddy plant. The larva of this moth feeds only the internal tissue that the adult stage of this insect (moth) never causes any damage to the plant but only the larval stage. This pest is commonly known in English as stem borer because the larva bores into the stem.
LIFE CYCLE OF STEM BORER
In the life cycle of stem borer there are four stages, namely egg, larva, pupa and adult.
i) Oviposition and egg: After sunset, the male and female moths come together and after sexual union the eggs are fertilized internally, i.e., internal fertilization takes place. After three days of sexual union, the female moths lay eggs early at night on the upper surface near the tip of the growing leaves of paddy plant. Each female moth lays 400 - 600 eggs in 2 -3 egg clusters.
DAMAGING STAGE OF STEM BORER
The larval stage is the damaging stage of the stem borer, because this is the feeding stage, as they feed the internal tissues of the stem of the paddy. The adult moths are not doing any harmful effect to the paddy plant.
NATURE OF DAMAGE OF STEM BORER
Due to the utilization of the inner tissues of the stem of young paddy plant by the larvae of the stem borer, the central shoot of the paddy plant fades and dries up. The larvae then abandon the damaged plant and search for a new one. In older paddy plants, the larvae utilize the inner tissues of the stem and causes white, empty ear heads.
Control of Stem Borer
To control the stem borer the fallowing measure may be taken:
Yellowish egg mass of the stem borer can be seen on the leaf of the paddy plant. These egg masses are to be collected from the field and destroyed them.
Destruction of stubbles
Larvae of Stem borer may remain inside the stubbles of the paddy plant. So after harvesting, the stubbles of the paddy plant should be uprooted and burnt. Thus the percentage of damage in the next crop may be reduced.
The stem borer moths are attracted to light during night. For this reason, the light traps are used extensively m the paddy field to attract and kill the pest.
Biological control of stem borer generally refers to the use of predators or parasites of a past to reduce its numbers to a point where it is no longer an economical problem but it is yet to be discovered.
The chemical control means the control of the stem borer by the use of some chemical insecticides. Before transplanting the seedlings of young paddy plants are to be immersed in 0.1% DDT solution may protect the plants from the attack of stem borer. After transplantation some insecticides like parathion, endrin may be used to protect from the attack of such insects.