So, the earliest of the spring-blooming perennials have barely had a chance to bud, let alone bloom and fruit and ripen — and the pests have already nibbled. It feels unsportsmanlike, and I know sportsmanlike conduct is a human ambition, even further, a gentleman’s conceit, and that little is accomplished by measuring nonhuman animals against such a standard — but come on. They are the very first buds, the slightest of nods to spring, and cutting them down at this stage preempts summer’s abundance. Before it’s even conceived.
Maybe it’s a trust issue. The animals don’t trust that I, or the rocky, inland coastal clay that passes itself off as soil here in San Diego, will produce a cornucopia. That there will be good eating. That we can work together — everybody having their job, in nature — and share the results. But instead, my local pests have chosen to be the Party of No. They refuse to cross the yard, to compromise for the good of the ecosystem. Because of this narrow, short-sighted, lower-order-mammal kind of thinking, we could all end up with nothing.
These first-blooming efforts belong to the June-bearing strawberries I have throughout my yard. In the past week I was surprised to find them developing immature fruits here and there, little sprays of green proto-berries surrounded by delicate white petals. I had convinced myself that this must be the way it works: Plants start producing at the tail-end of winter, just before spring when the pests are still dormant. Having been so stymied last spring, I had been searching for an answer to how the wild works it out. And in the past week, I thought I’d found it.
But no. There’s something flawed here. Some kind of imbalance, with too many pests, and too little eats. I am still hopeful that the el nino rains we’re expecting will grow enough of what the the naysayers should be eating to distract them from my yard, at least for a little while. All I’m seeking is a foothold, a chance to begin. I’d still share, despite this premature salvo.
However, I’m afraid there will be no negotiating with these entrenched self-interests. And I refuse a repeat of last year’s denuded landscape.
So, I’m seeking out solutions. And I’m open to a Bush Doctrine approach to gardening. But I’d also like to keep it clean: I’m looking for an organic, environmentally responsible throw down, green fisticuffs, an eco-brawl.
I need suggestions on how to deal with squirrels, rabbits, skunks, raccoons, and voles. Send me links. Post. E-mail. Forward this. Link to it. Share it. With a little help, I can take back the yard in ‘10. I can show those animals that preventing every plant from fruiting is no way to garden.
Yes I can.
