Plundering in the Garden

Conscience is a peculiar thing…some have one, others don’t. Have you noticed?

I’ve noticed that the deer who invade my rose garden have no conscience. They sneak into the island gardens at midnight and munch on the tender leaves of the rose bushes. Anything with a conscience would take only what’s necessary, not overindulge, leaving the roses shivering with empty, spindly branches. The “Thanks” I get? Piles of scat!

Roses are quite charming in moonlight. But then again a lot of things are appealing in the moonlight, a fact no one would deny. Things that are dreary in daylight take on a romantic aura and set in motion endorphins that push the envelope. It’s particularly true among moonstruck youth. I’m guessing the deer in my yard are young, and, like their human counterparts, are full of mischief, fearless and living on the edge of a dare with an insatiable appetite. Good thing they don’t have cars!

Remedies for the rose pillage are few. Worthless panaceas promise much, but deliver little. An excellent method is to leave a human scent glistening upon the plant; but unfortunately there were too many bushes for my nightly run. Spraying with a sulfur-water compound is a close second in the homeopathic realm. The deer do a taste-test on the bitter leaves, recoil in a maddening dance, and bound off to the neighbor’s yard.

Since I have not succeeded in loving my neighbors as myself and shared this medicinal magic, sometimes my own conscience condemns me. The most permanent method of ridding these midnight marauders is with a .270 calibre Remington, a 150 grain silver point bullet with ballistics of 4,000 ft/sec. But that is an extreme measure on a genteel island. And heartless to boot!

It’s not easy to make sense of the thoughts and intents of conscience. A poem I read today shed some light on motives. Paul, a poet-farmer, had a problem with the deer eating his pears. He averred that the problem was not conscience, but hunger, writing, “…(it) starts in hunger, but suddenly need goes to frenzy and sheer plunder…this delirium…the instinct that draws them after dark into trespass…”.

Deer, like some people, have no conscience, only hunger. To warn either of them of the rewards of evil that lie in wait is useless. It’s like giving a teenage boy a six pack and keys to the car, and admonishing him to drive slowly and stay out of trouble. Good luck. Even God learned better than to tell a woman not to do something!

Another poet, Ogden Nash, who once heard unspeakable words while in a moonlight swoon, sums it up pretty well, “If one wants to live in peace on this planet, they will need a clear conscience, or no conscience at all.” Oh, what a steep price for peace!

We’ve been sorting through worthless remedies, searching for ways to assuage our national conscience. We’ve found about the same results as my rose garden exploration. Our hunger for more, more, more has abated, which is probably a good thing... especially since there is no more low-hanging fruit to be picked.

We should all be more careful what we nibble on…especially in other people’s gardens!

Bud Hearn
September 3, 2009