Oh deer, oh deer, OH DEAR!

As the snow receded, it became apparent that our cozy "deer yard" had gone to the dark side.  I gravely underestimated the appetite of a deer herd.  The large yew which survived the weight of the 250 year old white oak which collapsed on it fifteen years ago now makes a better window than a door  The hollies, both male and female, are no longer attractive even to one another.  The horse chestnut sapling is missing its buds, as are the euonymus foundation plantings which, to compound the affront, had been stripped of their leaves only a month ago. We were kinda counting on those buds.

To add insult to injury, it seems that NONE of the neighbours near or far has lost a single leaf.  Did we single-handedly support said deer herd???  Granted, they kindly donated loads of fertilizer (as a thank you gift, I suppose), but it's been a bit of a lop-sided relationship. 

I have begun to wonder if there is sign language involved.  My maternal grandmother, a kind and generous person, fed hundreds of homeless men who rode the rails during the Depression and who apparently headed straight for her kitchen when the trains stopped in town.  Years later I read that such men left chalk marks on a gate as shorthand for what one might expect from the householder.  I have to say goodbye now and head for the garden.  That pesky chalk mark must be somewhere out there and IT NEEDS TO GO.