They need dessert

Our lone apple tree has outdone itself this year.  All the high winds we have had, the hard rains, nothing has deterred it from producing what I would call a giant bumper crop of wealthy apples.

For years, we had deer coming in for “dessert” at night, nibbling on all the windfalls, and just maybe grabbing a bite from one off the tree. 

This year, no.  Neighbor Becky Henderson and I have talked about the complete absence of deer in our pastures for the past several years. Why?  They used to come in our front yard and graze on the grass under the blue spruce in our front yard.  Until we put up the right sized fence, they would raid our garden.  But one thing was for sure: we didn’t worry about the windfalls under the one apple tree.

They are in the neighbor’s hay fields, and Son #4 said one of the neighbors had planted grain in a field nearby.

But that doesn’t explain their sudden lack of interest in dessert after the main dish.

And I miss seeing the little fawns cavorting around in our pasture by the river.  Sure would like to woo them back — if just to watch the antics of those young fawns.

And our neighbor to the south said they had lost all their chickens to a predator this year. One lone chicken and one lone rooster survived.  She’ll have to do double duty to keep the couple supplied in eggs.

We used to raise chickens.  Moved the chicken house twice — John even dug down and put mesh wire around the outside fence. Didn’t deter either the coons or skunks or whatever night creature liked to eat chicken.

We finally moved the house clear away from pasture and garden, put a high fence with all the traps around it.  The pen held 10 or 12 chickens, which kept us supplied with eggs.

We woke up one Sunday morning, looked out, and a bobcat was climbing over the enclosure; he escaped, after killing every single chicken.  That was the end of our chicken-raisin’ days.

Then we had three ducks — pets, kind of. They would waddle to the river every morning, spend the day on the water, then waddle back up, go into their small pen right by the ditch in the front yard, and bed down for the night.  They fell to the same fate. A bobcat.  So, no more ducks.

Now even the deer have deserted us.  

I have a feeling the neighbor to the northeast of us would gladly share those who dine at his “table” every spring and summer evening.

I’ve been thinking about making a sign with an arrow pointed southeast:   “Free dessert. All you can eat. No reservations needed.”