Cooperative Living

It’s Point Roberts, so I could be writing about trash, of course; or about the garden, or strawberries, or wildlife, or even the border because what else do we do up here? Today it’s strawberries and wildlife.

When we left for B.C. two weeks ago, the slugs, not me, were eating the newly ripened strawberries, and as I left, I removed the nets that were keeping the raccoons out. As part of the live and let-live deal with the wild life, I figured that the raccoons ought to have an even chance with the slugs at the berries, or at least they ought to once my desires were out of the picture.

Upon our return, I didn’t rush out to see what had happened because I figured I knew what had happened. Between them, the raccoons and slugs ate all the berries. However, when I did chance to look at the three beds, I discovered that they were filled with strawberries, ripe strawberries. Apparently, it was too dry for the slugs (no rain during that absence and no watering of the strawberries except from the water table which is fairly high near the strawberry beds) and the raccoons, I assume, are on vacation.

I gathered a basket full and we ate these lovely, succulent, deep red and sweet strawberries for dessert last night: a little powdered sugar added to my bowl, a little demerarra sugar added to Ed’s. And this morning, I went out and gathered another quantity…about two quarts in all. But this morning’s gathering, on my hands and knees caused me to notice that about half of the leaves of the strawberry plants were missing, the stems, though, sticking straight up. The mark of deer munching.

Almost too much cooperative living to my mind, I’m afraid. Surely something else is going on here, but I don’t know what it is.