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.
If you figure out how to deal with the voles, please let me know! I fenced my garden to keep out deer. I use Havahart traps to relocate groundhogs, rabbits, possums, etc. Japanese beetles get hand-picked. It’s a struggle, I admit. Have you read the $64 Tomato? Hopefully you won’t ever have a Superchuck!
Well, having attempted a total no-kill philosophy in the garden last year (not even via organic methods), I can say that not interfering for a few seasons may bring the insect populations into balance so that whatever’s eating your strawberries gets eaten a bit, too. Also, plant more than you need. Early in the season, floating row covers can be a lifesaver, I’ve heard. (I don’t use it because I like to see my plants… I’m also going for aesthetic pleasure.) My grandfather, a farmer for 50 years, told me to take old milk jugs, cut off the bottom and take off the lid, and put them over my cabbage seedlings until they get pretty big, to limit damage.
If you’re willing to do a little killing, you can invest in environmentally-friendly controls and/or purchase predator bugs. A good resource for this is Gardens Alive. At least, I’ve had good results with them in the past. As I said, tho, we went no-kill last year — except for our cats. I was not getting rid of them.
If you get a cat who is not too domesticated or entice a local feral kitty to visit for food handouts, your issues with rabbits and rodents will be over, lickety-split.
By the way, beautiful header photo!
I, too, want to employ a balanced, no-kill gardening strategy — one that adheres to principles of permaculture, where few inputs are needed and everything kind of works together: an ecosystem.
But I have struggled to get that underway because, as I mentioned in the post, I feel there is such an imbalance here to begin with.
Killing is definitely not my inclination in dealing with the pests. Nor is fencing everything off (we’re after the aesthetic, too). I’m hoping for some good suggestions to help me navigate the problem this season. I feel with just a little room to get things growing I could create a balanced environment.
Thanks for your response.
The Bush Doctrine line made me smile. Make sure that you’ve got an exit strategy…
A feral cat is an interesting suggestion.