A few years ago, a friend told me about a sign that made her think of me. It read something along the lines of, “planting a garden means believing in the future.”
My first reaction was no, planning a garden means war — I was in the middle of a groundhog year, watching helplessly as everything I planted was chomped off. The worst part was that this foe didn’t even eat most that it destroyed.
I had the distinct impression that, peeved at my gardening nearby its home (I was there first though!!), it watched me and when I left the garden, rushed out to simply snip the stems of anything I loved.
My sister called me paranoid, but commiserating with other fellow groundhog survivors, have found my conclusion not unique.
Another year, another friend visited in the growing season, and I gave her a garden tour.
“This is where the beans were growing, this is where my lettuce was, this is where my cucumbers were.” I said as we wandered through the ghosts of my efforts.
“This is so sad,” my friend said. I concurred, and launched into complaints about deer.
Yet another sad year, my parents set up a wildlife camera to see what dined in their garden. They got bunny-filled photos.
When my family moved to Preston County from the Maryland suburbs (where my mom had a great garden for many years) we were as bright eyed and bushy tailed about gardening as those plentiful bunnies who ate all our food.
The first year or two my mother gardened with no fence and no problem. When the critters found the tasty treats she grew, we put up an electric fence around about an acre of garden beds; baited it and everything. It worked great.
Then the bears started jumping the fence to play and snack on the beans. So we added an outer fence. Again, we had several good growing seasons. Then the deer hurdled through both fences, tearing wires on their way, disabling the electrification.
We spent time repairing it, baiting, adding other repellents. All this got us a few good growing days, but one night of deer damage could undo it all.
Last year I tried an iteration of fishing line fencing I read about and saw in action once. The idea is the invisible fishing line will spook away deer when they bump into it. The line I used must have been too visible, because it didn’t work.
This year we are trying yet another fence design. Using T-posts we put up a four-foot field fence, topped by smaller posts tied on and several single-strand wires to bring the whole thing to roughly 10 feet.
Knowing this isn’t impenetrable, we added a thick and visible single strand fence three feet inside the garden and about three feet high. The theory is deer don’t have good depth perception and when they survey will be unsure of a safe landing.
I hope this year the inspirational sign my friend told me about might apply.
ALDONA BIRD is a journalist, exploring possibilities of local productivity and sustainable living in Preston County.
