Two years ago, I planted a bed of tulips near the side door of the house. It's in a spot that I can protect with a "scarecrow" that chases the deer. (The scarecrow is a motion detector that sends a spurt of water shooting out when something moves across its field of sensitivity--works pretty good on meter readers too). Last spring I had a glorious display of color that lasted about six weeks.
This year I anxiously awaited a double blessing since I figured the bulbs would have multiplied. I set the scarecrow out early to be sure the deer wouldn't eat the tasty little buds as the tulips developed. To my dismay, I saw very little evidence of tulip greens poking through the soil. I couldn't believe that so many would not have come back.
Last week as I began to get intimately involved with the yard work, pulling weeds and digging around behind bushes, I found splashes of color in hidden places--under the deck, behind the rhododendrons, between the pine trees. Obviously, the chipmunks and/or the squirrels had decided to move my tulips. I thought about moving them back to where I felt they belonged, but my little landscapers would probably just move them again and I hate to make more work for them. After all, they have all those holes to dig and mulch to scrape into piles--not to mention climbing up the bird feeder to clean out the seed and suet. Their work is never done.
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