Who Ordered Chicken

The creatures of the night are always busy in the wild cultivated gardens. It's a regular zoo out there. In many respects I prefer not to know what exactly is going on when I'm not looking.

The digger has been extra busy in the last week. There was an attempt to uproot a sizeable Jack-in -the-Pulpit. The tuber was just too big. This looked more like scratching than digging though. That was odd.

There have been little pukas all over the Great Lawn and many of the paths. There were also signs the digger was not confining itself to open grass areas. I know I have a very healthy worm population, but this was getting ridiculous.

My plan for the day was to continue on with the pre-chopping along the tree line before the utility company's butchers return. That's when I saw it. Button saw it too and a major commotion ensued.

There is a damn chicken pecking the crap out of my garden.

I saw three chickens about two weeks ago just below me along the byway. Today I saw one. Who knows if that means there is only one left. Did you know chickens can't really fly? It's more like a flying, squawking hop with Button in hot pursuit.

Damn chicken! I don't need another fowl animal in the garden scratching the peck out of things.

I went back to my pre-chopping. I have now cruised both sides of the entire utility easement chopping what I could reach from the ground with my loppers. I have two months before they return and may go at it again with my pole saw just to take it a bit higher.

Already I have pushed back the tree line and opened up the forest edge so that what they need to do is that much more obvious. It certainly helps that I have been doing this on a consistent basis for the last nine years. I knew this day was coming. It made my preemptive effort quick and easy.

I also need to make all my baby trees and shrubberies obvious and clearly visible before they return. That will involve some early chop and drop of the meadow in vulnerable areas and bright orange tagging.

I am thankful they agreed to hold off until the first of November so my garden wouldn't get squashed at the peak of bloom. By then there have normally been a couple of hard killing frosts, the forest is near naked and the meadow is entirely brown. The natural squashing by snow could have already begun.

But that is two months away, a full third of the time of vegetation. I had to put up some resistance.

Resistance is not futile.

Now the asters begin. One of the first is the White Wood Aster, Eurybia divaricata last time I looked.

A thistle snuck by me. They sure are pretty, but gardey don't like being stabbed. I root them out when I find them.

The garden will get the chance to complete the season before a horde of barbarians rampage through. I will be ready.

And satisfied with a very warm summer's record breaking crops of okra and dung pile squash.

I just need to figure out what to do with that foul chicken. Did someone order chicken?