Groundhogs

My backyard is gorgeous tonight. It faces south-west and its not got much tree cover, so there's lots of happy sunshine wafting through the yard. The sprinkler is spraying some much needed moisture across the weeds that pose as my back lawn. We didnt get out much to mow the lawn last summer on account of having a newborn to care for, and the grass got replaced by a whole bunch of other plants instead. Many people might call them weeds, but I have to admit I kind of like the multi-level look they get after they start to grow a bit.

The sun shining through the sprinkler is making a rainbow of tiny droplets as they spray and fall on the lawn - er - ecosystem. Its beautiful. I wish I could capture the smell and the view and the feeling and put it in a jar for mid-January when all is dark and cold and depressing. There's something about my backyard - er - urban meadow that's always made me feel really calm and happy, I dont know what it is. My house is nothing remarkable, and my backyard is pretty nondescript, but I love it nonetheless. Maybe because its mine. It symbolizes a new start, a potential family life that is minus the stress and strife I grew up with. I feel like I can truly be safe in my own backyard.. wow, my own backyard. I can plant flowers, I can compost my own vegetable and fruit wastes, I can't believe it sometimes.

It took me so long to achieve this, that I sometimes sit back and wonder how I got here. Then I remember all the bad times, my dad's addictions and suicidal tendencies, my resultant depressions, the recession and government cutbacks of the 80's and '90's when I was looking to make my start in the work world, the not-so-good boyfriends, the stupid choices I made, and the resulting insecurity that still plagues me as a result and realize I've paid my dues, I should dam* well enjoy my backyard and everything in it. Even if the only thing in it is an overmature hedge, a very old lilac tree in need of pruning, a composter, a plastic kids pool and a fledgling garden planted this year.

Ah, the backyard...

In addition to the weeds, a family of groundhogs moved in under our deck last summer, for the same reason as said weeds moved in. I guess it's true that nature abhors a vacuum. With the absence of the human inhabitants of this house out there last summer, a whole new ecosystem has moved in.

Right now one of the groundhogs (we have named them "Gus" and "Gus' Girlfriend"), is trying to make a break for the groundhog hole under the deck, however, the sprinkler is making it an interesting challenge for her. The giant rodent (ever seen the teeth on a groundhog up close? Scary!) is sprinting around the edges of the yard, not quite sure what's going on.

I've had a nature-vs.-human battle all summer with the groundhogs, so its quite amusing to watch one of them get all hot and bothered trying to dodge the spray. We've pretty much been locked in a spy vs. spy. war over my back garden since the spring. I have tried to fill in the entrance way to their hole, and they've dug it out. I sprinkled hot pepper powder on my flowers, they just waited 'till it rained and gnawed away. I've put sticks and chicken wire up to try to get them to dodge my plants, but no luck. There's pretty much no plants at all growing within 4 feet of the entrance to their lair. Every time I try to put up some device to deter them from gnawing on my horticultural handiwork, they manage to find a way around it, and chew up my flowers anyhow.

Last year I wanted to get an animal control company to remove them, but this year, they've kind of grown on me, despite their destructiveness. I just hope that maybe they'll get annoyed and move on to another yard if I bug them enough. After all the heartbreaking change I've had endure in my life over the last year, I dont think I have the heart to inflict this on them. They had to move in because their own cover was blown last year when the neighbours took down their shed, so where is a lost family of groundhogs to go?

I've always thought there was a higher purpose to us finding this house so quickly. It did feel like there was some higher power sitting on my shoulder the day we bought this place. We found it so easily, the first day out looking, the fourth house we visited, on Valentine's Day no less. I thought that maybe this house was a step on the journey of bigger and better things, but lately with everything that's gone on in my life, the illnesses, the depression, the grief and the pain of the last 12 months, I wonder if this house really appeared to us in order to be a shelter for the lost, the sad, the grieving and the wounded.

On that note, maybe the displaced groundhogs have a right to be here as much as we do.