Two weeks ago, I planted some 13 dahlias and a whole bunch of heuchera in the large bed down by the road. I was diligent about watering them all in through the first week. I promised myself that I am going to stay on top of crabgrass and other weeds. And what a beautiful sight they will be!
Or would be. (Maybe still will be.)
Got home from the city late last night. Gave a quick glance over at the bed as I drove up the driveway, and all looked well.
On my way out this morning, hmmmm: a different story!
Each dahlia has had most of its leaves eaten off, as have about half the heuchera plants. Sometime between late last night and around 8:15 am today, a marauding horde of deer—even though they can gorge on all of the lush greenery festooning the woods around Pleasant Hill; even with corn growing like mad in the fields just down the road; heck, even though I can’t imagine that a heuchera leaf would taste that good—had its way with my dahlias (and some of the heuchera; did I mention that?). Nibble, nibble, nibble.
To my thinking, deer are not Bambi; they’re not, “Ooooooh! Look at the pretty deer in the field! Shhhhhh! Don’t scare it away!! Sooooo cute!”
They’re big. They’re hungry for my plants. And I don’t like ’em.