I swear, last night when they said they’d found Elizabeth Smart alive I thought: finally. Some good news. Of course, then I watched Peter Jennings and there was so much talk about war and terrorism and biological attacks and nuclear attacks…but for once, there was *something* to be happy about in that thirty minutes of current events. Did we need that or what?
Meanwhile, around here, spring is trying to be sprung. (There’s some sort of problem with the syntax in that sentence but I am still on break and not responsible for perfect grammar so I don’t care.) The trees are budding, it’s warm, and some of the bulbs we planted are starting to come up. Which means something else: the relationship between me and the deer is about to change.
In the winter, I love the deer. They’re so pretty, bounding across the yard with their little white tails, or moving in quiet herds through the trees. So nice, so rustic. But in the summer, it all changes. In the summer, the deer are the ENEMY, because they eat all of our plants, show no mercy to our perennials, ravage every bit of greenery in our yard. We plant stuff just for them, along their path, but is it enough? No. At plant stores around here optimistic salespeople will say to us, “Oh, try this, the deer don’t eat this, ever.” Yeah, right. Maybe the in-town deer don’t. Here, they take no prisoners. They’ll eat anything.
I’ve literally run down the stairs and burst outside to stop them from grazing in our garden before, yelling and waving my arms, and they just lift their heads, eyes all innocent, and then keep eating. They are not afraid, not at all. (And you should be afraid of them: last year, a woman was out in her yard and a deer attacked her…no joke! Sometimes they do that, although not often.) Bottom line is, it’s not a good idea to charge them, even if you feel compelled to do so. As my husband has pointed out, a deer can f**k you up. So I keep my distance, but I still yell.
I mean, really. Can’t we all just get along? But this is part of country living. We accept it, because in return we get the clearest constellations I’ve ever seen, and owls swooping past the windows, and the smell of manure hanging in the air as its spread over the nearby fields. (Okay, so maybe that last one’s not quite a bonus.) With us, though, hope springs eternal. Each year we’re sure this will be the time we can find a way to make peace with the deer and have a gorgeous garden. You gotta have hope, right?
have a good day, everyone….