Oh, Deer

Every night they come. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

They come quietly and they come hungry.

Sometimes I see them, but often I only see evidence. Here you see our neighbor's arborvitae. We noticed - yikes! - lots of arborvitae needles on the snow under the tree. Obvious signs of deer munching. Next day, we had a burlap coat for the little tree. Of course, they will find something else to eat. At some point the burlap will have to come off in the spring and then we can hope that they will have forgotten how good this tree tastes.

Two nights ago, at about 2:30 a.m., there were eight of them in the back yards. One was eating bird seed off the ground right outside the house. Slowly I opened the second-story deck door. The deer would raise her head and stare at me for a few seconds and then put her head down and eat some more. I would open the door a few more inches and she would raise her head and stare at me, and then go back to eating again. After about five times of this little back and forth game, she would lower her head, but her eyes kept watching me.

If only we could teach them to eat the velvet leaf, but not the arborvitae. Eat the night shade, but not the tomatoes. Eat the creeping charlie, but not the impatiens. Eat the dandelions, but not the hosta.

Oh dear, oh deer.