Treachery in the Garden

After weeks of scrubbing, Bob is finally free of the mud and muck he accumulated when he was swept down a storm drain into a raging creek. (See previous post.) You’d think he’d be pleased, especially since he’s wearing his new GO GREEN pants. But consider this: one minute he’s in the hands of a happy, cooing child, anticipating a new life with super heroes and Disney characters, and the next he’s jettisoned out of a moving vehicle onto the street like a wad of throat mucus. Helps you understand why his face is forever engraved with that PO’d expression.



For weeks Bob was too frightened to venture outdoors, fearing another deluge. Days of blue sky convinced him to accompany me as far as the garden where, in his new green pants, he initially felt right at home.



“GO GREEN,” he chanted. “Raise your own food. No chemicals. No hormones. Fresh food leaves the tiniest of footprints on the planet. GO GREEN! GROW GREEN!”


Bob can be quite entertaining while you work even though he gets a bit carried away. Best not tell him that though, the words "carried away" freak him out.



I’d managed to collect only a handful of contender beans for my writing buddy who was due to arrive, when raucous screams interrupted Bob's cheer. He fled to green bean camouflage.


“No worries, Bob. You’re not on his menu.”





But he’d not only heard, he’d glimpsed that majestic feathered hunter and the sight left him terrorized. I explained that one of our resident red shouldered hawks was telling the other she’d spied dinner—likely, the small, quiet, long-eared creature in the clover.



Things quieted down and Bob emerged from the bean row to enjoy the sunshine. Whoosh! My hair ruffled as great wings swooped over us. Bob retreated. Trembling, he peeked over a bean leaf.

The bunny was statue stiff. Above us the bragging hawk screamed off, a snake writhing in its talons.


Bob’s not sure he’s going into the garden again. Ever. It was not the peaceful place he’d expected. He spent the rest of the day in the kitchen on a stack of soft fabric shopping bags. If it’s safer to shop in a grocery store than to work in a garden, he’s not coming home carrying food in anything but these. Maybe he’ll come home inside one of these comfy bags, just in case those hawks are around.



If you haven’t already, please read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver with Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver, a delicious tale about growing and eating good food while leaving the tiniest of footprints on Earth.

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