Porch Light Stories that Shine a Light on Life
the saga of the groundhog by collette caprara peaches, which fell to the ground as hollow shells. This year an entirely new nemeses emerged-the Groundhog. At first, we knew the stranger only as a mysterious presence that, unobserved, ate the flowers of Groundhog Scoping Out Prospects at Ferry Farm every squash plant before they had a chance to produce fruit. We identified the villain one day At a time when people are when we walked by a neighbor's house a longing for some element of normalcy and few doors down. Upon seeing her in her consistency, I am pleased to report there yard, we started up a conversation, asking is one thing that has never changed in our how she was coping with the unique athousehold: My husband's annual quest to home weeks we were experiencing. protect the fruits of his gardening efforts from opportunist plant-eating creatures. But our neighbor didn't have a lot of time for chit-chat. She was on a When most folks think of mission, patrolling her environs and gardening equipment, images of shovels, searching for the culprit who was digging spades, and rakes may come to mind. But holes around her lawn and under her my husband's tools also include a plethora house and raiding her garden. She had of innovative gadgets and contraptions tracked down the unwelcomed interloper that he invents to defeat the enemy in a and identified him as a Groundhog. She yearly contest with neighborhood critters truly had a sense of mission--not only to who lie in wait to get to the harvest before protect her yard and house , but also to we do. carry on the legacy of her husband, who had dutifully defended his premiere In past years, the bandits have garden each year from a herd of deer who been a bevy of bold squirrels who engage passed word around that there was a with my husband in competition for the "country buffet" in the 'Hood. fruit from our lone peach tree. One year, this battle escalated to the point where he My husband shared his surrounded the trunk with the barrier of experience of the garden raids, and our a huge cardboard billboard-which seemed neighbor confirmed that the culprit must to accomplish its mission of making the be one and the same. She equipped my tree squirrel-proof. But the victory would husband with a large animal trap and be brief. The tree succumbed to a swarm advised that we should release it far from of neighborhood honey bees that feasted the neighborhood if the trapping on each and every one of the ripened
endeavor was successful. That evening, my husband Googled to find the best bait to use and found a list that included fresh carrots, lettuce, and tomatoes. (I made an unwelcome comment in an attempt to add a touch of humor to the situation, asking if it also included a white linen tablecloth, noting that I thought the menu had been posted online by the groundhog.) The trap sat dutifully at the edge of the garden for days but to no avail---and emerging plants, once again, disappeared during the night. As an added protective measure, my husband went through the house, collecting baby gates and pet screens that we had accumulated through the years, as well as a variety of tarps and flattened cardboard boxes. If the sight of a ravaged garden was an eyesore, it was dwarfed by the image of the giant fence of junk that was created. Then one day as we sat on our screened porch, we caught sight of the critter munching on the leaves of flowers in our back garden. My husband went down the steps and confirmed that the interloper was the gluttonous groundhog. But that was the moment that the "enemy" disappeared for good-not because he fled to the ravine below, but because he was so cute, and chubby, clumsy, and winsome that he changed our hearts.
My husband proclaimed that, like us, he needed food, and that our garden's bounty should be shared. In following days, when we saw our new friend scamper by, we called out a little hello. The disappearance of the villain was accomplished not by the elimination of the little creature, but by our change in perspective.
Collette Caprara is a local writer and artist. Photos are from I Dig George by Noelle Chason Hall, illustrated by Collette Caprara
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