When You Garden You’re Never Alone

Though gardening often feels like a solitary activity, I’m never alone for long. Our mostly indoor cats can’t resist the view of me kneeling on the ground.  One, two and maybe even three of them will venture out to see what I’m up to.

Thursday, as I planted and pruned, mulched and swept Lindy was on the scene.  She sits on the warm stones and keeps an eye on things, moving when I move to other parts of the garden.

lindy on the stones

Lindy keeps watch

After tending to the basil and tomatoes on one side of the garden, I moved to the fence line to prune the dead growth on my fern. As I stepped down from the rock wall, I heard a loud fluttering.  I’m used to the sound of bees and hummingbirds, but this was different.  Within seconds of focusing on what looked like a huge moth, a hummingbird swooped down in the same direction.

Oh darn…where is my camera when I need it?

As the hummingbird flew away, the ‘moth’ settled into the clippings of my recently pruned fern.  Not wanting to lose track of the visitor, I looked over my shoulder for my camera, then walked backwards to get it.  Camera in hand I attempted multiple shots of the wings in flight.  That thing moved fast!  It zipped around the garden, plant to plant and finally disappeared behind the flax.


Hovering moth

moth at rest

Moth at rest

Now I’m full of questions.  What was that winged visitor? Was it food for the hummingbird or prey?  Was it just a coincidence that they flew at each other, before they both moved away?  Where is my backyard manual when I need it?

I finally managed a few shots, then continued with my work.  That’s when a squirrel in the pine tree started telling me off.  It isn’t a sound you can ignore.  I made my cluck-cluck-clucking sound but he wasn’t impressed.  There was nothing left to do but take his picture and walk away.


Garden patrol

As I packed up my tools and readied for my appointments, I tried to imagine things from their perspective.  They spend far more time in the garden than I do.  Suddenly a middle-aged red-head with long green gloves and sharp tools is bobbing up and down among the plants. I am the interloper, not them.

Lindy was back inside by now, preferring the soft rug and the cooler temps.  Or, maybe she took the hint. The moth and hummingbird were probably working as a team, hoping  to chase me off.  When that didn’t work, the squirrel started shouting from the tree tops: “Can’t you take a hint?”

Excellent team work. I wonder if they think they’re rid of me for good?

Have you ever been told off by a squirrel?