A promised Bambi diatribe

Walt Disney did gardeners a great disservice when he made the movie “Bambi”. Any gardener who has met with deer knows that they are not a cartoonish embodiment of saccharin anthropomorphism but rather more akin to some hybrid mammalian cockroach. Tolerance is being sorely tested. I have patched the deer fence, urged fellow gardeners to close the gates, sprayed foul smelling fertilizers, but each day brings new losses. Tomatoes? Mown down, lovely promising green fruit gone. Peppers? A few sticks, some pulled completely from the ground, with only the firecracker hot thai left intact. Beans? A topknot of foliage crowns each bamboo teepee, presumably unreachable.

On rainy, cold January days, deer nightmares of previous years are blessedly washed away, and the gardener turns to that pleasant task of seed selection and ordering. The chasm between what I imagined when selecting, planting and nurturing and the reality of plants cut down in a doe-eyed blink is vast. Were I prescient and able to see the decimation of my summer garden would I have even bothered? Surely a question all gardeners have at one time or another answered with a resounding YES. Of course I would bother. Gardening is thought of as a destination driven activity. Plant seeds; eat fruits of labor, mmm, good. But gardening for serious gardeners really is as much about the journey as the destination. I learn in my garden, I find peace in my garden and sometimes I cry in my garden. It is a place of comfort and centering.

Now I must be off to the grange to buy blood meal. Why, I hear it deters the deer, you know……