Yesterday I experienced the season’s first official deer invasion, with two adults, two teenagers, and two babies making themselves right at home in my back yard. It had to happen sooner or later; deer are a year-round presence in my neighborhood, and fall is when they tend to be out and about as a family. Six at one time is nothing unusual. I shooed them away before they could damage what’s left of the euonymus, although I really wouldn’t have cared if they ate it all. Help yourselves. God created euonymus to keep deer away from camellias.
Nevertheless, another round of Deer-Off is probably in order. Oh yes – and the dog needs a haircut too. I have no idea if my haphazard attempts at deer deterrence are doing any good, but my guess is that they help a little, since my camellia was still there the last time I looked (although that was an hour ago).
Nevertheless, another round of Deer-Off is probably in order. Oh yes – and the dog needs a haircut too. I have no idea if my haphazard attempts at deer deterrence are doing any good, but my guess is that they help a little, since my camellia was still there the last time I looked (although that was an hour ago).
We’re here, we’re deer, get used to us. (Image courtesy of Liz Noffsinger/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net.)
I am well aware that my anti-deer regimen could use a little work. Other than dog hair and Deer-Off, it consists exclusively of regular visits to the back yard with Schmoogie, the aforementioned dog. He’s a poor excuse for a terrier, but the deer don’t know that, and I like to think our patrols make them a bit less inclined to trespass. In any case, there’s no getting rid of them (fences are not an option), so I try not to get too invested in the outcome. Which, by the way, is easier said than done.
The Enforcer.
At least I’m not a weekend gardener, like my friend Elaine. On Fridays, Elaine drives 2 ½ hours from her apartment in Manhattan to her house in the country in upstate New York, where deer quite possibly outnumber people and groundhogs eat what deer leave behind. Like me, Elaine is a bit of a galloping horse gardener. She has to be, since she has absolutely no control over what happens during the five days her garden is unattended. It must be hard to pull up on a Friday night and find that half your plants have been eaten. But she doesn’t let it get to her. She is the Zen Master of galloping horse gardeners.
Elaine’s beautiful garden is the second of this blog’s guest gardens, and you can read her account of her triumphs and tragedies here, in The Hazards of Country Life. She calls her garden pseudo-English; I call it Darwinian – its design principle is survival of the fittest. I particularly like the hazmat suit she dons to work in the yard.
Deer, groundhogs, poison ivy, Lyme disease – is it worth it? Of course it is.
Elaine’s beautiful garden is the second of this blog’s guest gardens, and you can read her account of her triumphs and tragedies here, in The Hazards of Country Life. She calls her garden pseudo-English; I call it Darwinian – its design principle is survival of the fittest. I particularly like the hazmat suit she dons to work in the yard.
Deer, groundhogs, poison ivy, Lyme disease – is it worth it? Of course it is.
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