Oct 14, 2014 3 min read

It’s getting close to the time when the last vestiges of spring and summer will disappear, leaving gardens and patios naked in the wake of the impending onset of that dreaded word: winter.

I’m not dreading winter. I happen to agree with Ann Bradstreet, who said, “If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.”

And, I can tell you, as October extinguishes “itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain (thank you, J.K. Rowling),” autumn is fading quickly because my patio, still dressed in summer comfort, is being peppered with a salvo of acorns falling from a giant oak that envelops the patio and provides welcome shade on the hottest summer days.

This year, the acorns seem larger than in seasons past, and I do not know if that portends a harsher than normal winter. Nonetheless, they fall. They land in gutters, bounce around and end up in the yard, making footing treacherous when mowing because they act like a blanket of ball bearings.

More pernicious, however, is these acorns from which giant oaks grow present quite a buffet for deer, which feed on them until they decide to prune shrubs down to the nub.

Some deer I have seen walking in my backyard are quite majestic. I saw a buck not too long ago that was the size of a small horse, complete with antlers and a voracious appetite.

Attempts to thwart the eradication of plantings that began in the spring and were cultivated during the summer can be quite futile. Rosebushes, mums, hydrangeas and even azaleas and holly bushes are not immune to the munching capacity of deer.

Now, there is a product on the market that claims to be deer and rabbit repellent. It is a little pricey, but it seems to keep the deer at bay, and rabbits, well, I couldn’t care less.

The only problem with this repellent is it stinks. After an application on what is left to be preserved, no man – nor any beast, for that matter – would want to come near my house.

These animals have no fear of humans and are not aggressive, just hungry and destructive. One of my cats, Zac, the one that required assistance from a Washington fire department’s hose to be “flushed” from a storm drain (see, borough council lady, the fire department does have a presence in the borough), looks at deer as playmates.

They get along well, kind of like shrub soul mates – Zac sprays them; the deer eat them.

But as the days grow shorter and the temperatures turn cooler, my least favorite seasonal transitional task is approaching – taking all the patio furniture to the basement.

This task signifies, at least to me, the official end of one season and beginning of another.

But, frankly, what it really does is free the patio of obstacles and give the deer unfettered access to more acorns and to their vegetarian delights.

Jon Stevens, Greene County bureau chief, can be reached at jstevens@observer-reporter.com.