Time, apparently, for an update on the deer problem. The fence went up last year in late summer. For the most part, it succeeded in keeping the critters out. There were a few setbacks, as, for example, when Hurricane Irene felled a tree right over the fence. But we cleaned up, did the repairs.
Now we are in the midst of the balmiest March that I remember, and like most gardeners I’m watching the tender green shoots softening the harsh winter landscape. Perhaps it’s too early. If the sun coaxes the buds to unfold, a late frost could be lethal, but an incursion of deer would be no less devastating.
A privet hedge separates my yard from my neighbor’s. Though the mature privet now straddles both sides of the property line, the hedge belongs to him. We have consulted in a neighborly way from time to time, mostly to discuss pruning, and especially how high and when, so that the hedge will be uniform and even along the top. My deer fence continues its run along this boundary, winding mostly unseen between the woody trunks.
Now it’s completely vanished from sight, because the neighbor tore it down. He didn’t tell me or ask me or even warn me— I found out a few hours ago when a concerned gardener called because she thought I ought to know.
Rage and then bewilderment that a close neighbor could be so aggressive and destructive raced through me. Then apprehension gripped me as I visualized the invasion of the herds returning to the banquet they’d long been denied.
Now it’s late. Like Scarlett, I’ll think about it tomorrow.