Oh, Deer
I spoke too soon. It’s hot. And getting hotter. After that, hotter still. Despite the fact that it’s even hotter elsewhere, here it’s plenty hot. And that’s hot enough for me.
Records are being broken all over the planet and, judging from a map I saw, the only way to escape the heat is to go to places like Labrador or perhaps northern Finland. Faroe Island is nice this time of year too. The high today is 51 and partly cloudy. Ingmar Bergman lived there much of his life. I suspect he wasn’t a fan of hot weather either.
Sometime very early this morning we were besieged by what we have deduced to be very ravenous deer. These cloven-hoofed ne’er-do-wells laid waste to our beets. Virtually every last one. And in the process of their bacchanalian blowout they managed to trample a few of the adjoining rows of vegetables as well.
This is the first season deer have really been an issue for us. I can only think of one other time deer went after our vegetables. And it was our beets then as now. They methodically went down one row, eating every last beet green but leaving the roots unscathed, giving the row the appearance of having been neatly mowed. In that case, it wasn’t a total loss.
The deer in question first showed up earlier this season, making forays into the market garden that is furthest from the barn. They did some damage but the two market gardens closer to the fenced pasture where Loretta and Annabelle spend their night remained unscathed. Both mules are very territorial and will scare off any interlopers that dare to come too close. It’s a big reason coyotes don’t mess with our barnyard.
But it seems either the mules got used to these hoofed ruminants or the deer figured out the big scary mules can’t go past the pasture fence. Either way, these normally timid forest dwellers got more brazen.
We resorted to covering our beets, as well as the chard, with fabric. Held down by heavy rocks, it does a good job of keeping insects and birds at bay. But the deer would yank the fabric away so they could get access to the beets they craved. It was time to up our game.
A few nights ago, I used a brand-new heavy piece of the Agribon cloth and firmly secured it to the ground. I figured that would do it.
In what must surely have resembled the dance number from the Elvis movie Clambake, the deer twisted, stomped, and probably did the Watusi on the pristine white fabric, leaving it a mosaic of muddy hoofprints. Then, using either their feet, mouths, or perhaps power tools, shredded the fabric and thereby gained access to the beets that lay underneath.
We need a better plan.
Fences can sometimes work but a deer can jump at least six feet in the air (some can fly, but that’s another thing entirely) which means a deer-proof fence needs to be seven or eight feet tall. A fine idea but not the sort of project we can whip together mid-season.
In the interim, we’re working on other solutions. We don’t want to hurt them. And we’d be willing to share, if only they weren’t so greedy.
Perhaps an animatronic coyote. I will name him Wile E. And beside him I will leave a large wooden crate stamped “Acme.” That will scare those pesky deer.