Oh, Deer
The midwinter torpor has well and truly settled on Willow Greens Farm and aside from reading a bit of Tolstoy, fooling around with some Clapton solos, and watching Six Nations Rugby, nothing is happening in and around the stone walls of the house.
Except for the persistent and destructive activities of our resident deer population.
Their attacks come in two forms: by antler and by tooth. The bucks begin in November as they absolutely trash any small tree or shrub, rubbing the velvet off their racks and stating “This is my space, and these are my women. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair.” Trees savaged in this manner are always disfigured and often destroyed. Why they feel the need to be so possessive (and misogynistic) is beyond me as there seem to be dozens of available lady deer brazenly walking about the place in broad daylight. The phrase “spoilt for choice” comes to mind.
Which leads to the second problem. While parading around the property, displaying themselves to the boys, the ladies treat our ornamental plants as a kind of expensive buffet, nibbling and sampling everything regardless of what the horticultural industry may optimistically promise to be “deer resistant” choices.
As an appetizer they often go with the yews. I have several in containers—moved against the house to thwart their advances —and I understand that selection. Everyone knows how much they love a bit of taxus baccata. And as I’ve sometimes caught the flash of their eyes looking in at us watching television, just outside the window, I shouldn’t be too surprised that they are not deterred by the driveway, the lights, and the dog.
More surprising has been their full scale assault on the newly planted hollies. Well played, I guess. Everything I’ve read (and a few years of experience) lulled me into a belief that these were off the menu, but on an infrequent walk outside, I found them to be pretty seriously buzzed.
But there are ways to fight back. The first, and most obvious, is to create a physical barrier. Single-stemmed trees can be wrapped with tree guards. This protects against antler damage but leaves lower branches unprotected. It’s somewhat unsightly but it has the advantage of requiring you to think about it only once. For multi-stemmed trees a ring of 4’ field fence does the trick as anything above that is generally out of reach. For groundcovers and large expanses, the chemical option is the easiest choice. It works, but it requires consistency—not my strong suit.
A new entry in this battle is an unproven quasi-chemical/electrical option. These will be assigned to guard the Arrival Court and Entry Garden where physical barriers would be too intrusive. The theory is that a special scent lure will attract the deer to this stake, and it will get a small shock (delivered via two AA batteries) when it boops its nose against the metal probes. Thus schooled, it will not return. I’m drawn to this idea as it seems simultaneously silly, over-complicated, and brilliant. Results will follow.
Here’s the thing: I actually like deer. I’ll accept that we have too many and that, theoretically, they spread disease (although recent evidence shows that mice may be our worst enemies in the war against Lyme Disease), but like squirrels, I enjoy seeing them come and go. The fawns are beautiful and the bucks majestic. But somewhere a line must be drawn.
Speaking of wildlife, we are currently holding our breath while a pair of Red Shouldered Hawks build a nest in a walnut tree just beyond the Entry Garden. I suspect this is the same young pair that nested in a different tree last year, but promptly moved on. I understand that young raptors often “play house” for a couple of years—building nests but not breeding—before they finally get down to business. Let’s hope they are ready for parenthood.