August 24, 2000 - Deer: a beautiful bane to gardeners6A - The Suffolk Times • August 24, 2000
Deer: a beautiful bane to gardeners
It's good to be back home again after
weeks in a hospital with its super- sterile
atmosphere of white. How good it was
to drive up our long tree -lined driveway
and then look across to the back pasture
with its greenery. At the far end was the
windmill telling us which way the slight-
est zephyr was coming from. It was good
to just stop and lis-
ten to the cicadas �����
calling in the tree-
tops. ON
Cicadas love
heat — the hotter NATURE
the day, the more by Paul
they sing. There- Stoutenburgh
fore it's the heat of
August when we hear them best, and
what a rising call they have. We kids did-
n't know them as cicadas. We always
called them "locusts" which, of course,
in a truly technical term, they are not.
Often you'll find them on the ground,
probably after they've mated, for then
-they die. Their big, dark, stubby bodies,
with their green glass -like wings and
bulging eyes are a real curio to look at.
Later the female will lay her eggs and
then she, too, dies.
The young hatch, fall to the ground
and burrow in, where they remain for
from four to 20 years, depending on the
species and location. They emerge after
this underground life to start the cycle
over again. And can you believe it? On
the way home from the hospital the other
day there was an adult cicada, spent,
lying in the driveway, reminding us once
again of nature's mysterious ways.
As evening takes over the night,
sounds fill the woods and trees around
us. The katydid sings its repetitive tree-
top song, "katy -did, katy- didn't, katy-
did," along with the multitude of other
little sounds of crickets, tree frogs and
their kind. And so, I have returned to
this wonderful North Fork to recuperate
and learn how to walk again.
The very next morning Barbara called
to me in a hushed voice, "Come here
and see what I see out in the pasture,"
My eyes scanned the lush green pasture
that's been spurred on by the recent
rains to exceptional growth. My eyes
traveled down past the little orchard,
past the clump of Russian olives where
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PARTIES
Booking now
for Fall
the cows go to escape the heat, and then
by the corner of the grape arbor I was
what her excitement was all about — a
young spotted fawn nursing beneath its
mother. Never before have I seen this
private feeding out in the open. Here
there was no hiding. We watched in awe
as they stood there in perfect innocence,
with the fawn's little while tail thrashing
back and forth, and an occasional
butting of its head against its mother to
make the milk flow better. What a pic-
ture!
I'll probably
regret this new
addition to the
deer herd that lives
in our neighbor -,
hood, for they
have destroyed our
orchard and gar-
den. During the
winter they
stripped my moun-
tain laurel, ravaged
the buds of my
prize rhododen-
drons and ate the
English ivy grow-
ing on the trees up
as high as they
could reach.
I'm sure many of
my readers have
the same problem
with deer. They are
so brazen they
even walk across
our patios, eat
under our bed-
room window and
dart back and forth
across our drive-
and the four or five butterfly bushes are
the only color left, as most everything
else has been nibbled off by the deer.
Never mind. I'm thankful for what
they've left, for the color from the zinnia
patch and my butterfly bushes have
been working overtime attracting but-
terflies. The main visitors are what we
call the cabbage butterfly, a small,
whitish, seemingly, always on the move,
one -inch butterfly. Then second in pop-
ularity are the monarchs. Next in popu-
larity are the yellow swallowtails.
while missing many of the natural won-
ders about us.
I had a lady call me last week about
bees — not in her bonnet but in the
trunk of her father's car. With a little
investigation, I found they were con-
fined to little golf - ball -size parchment
nests, which meant that they weren't
bees at all, but wasps. Bees are nectar -
seeking insects while most wasps are
carnivorous, meaning they feed on spi-
ders and insects of all sorts. They also
indulge in nectar, particularly when
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
We all know there are too many deer about. They literally do thousands and thousands of dollars
worth of damage to our plants, trees and bushes, to say nothing about their causing accidents on
way as we drive in. the highway. In s
My heart goes out
to the farmer or nurseryman who is vis-
ited by one of these herds of deer. In one
night they can do thousands of dollars
worth of damage.
As my eyes left this perfect picture of
mother and fawn feeding, I couldn't
help but notice the one bit of color left
in our garden. The zinnias evidently are
not on the deer's menu. They continual-
ly put out their colorful heads of yellow,
orange, red, pink and violet. The zinnias
0 txi ermusi
comes to Southold
A good beginning
never ends.
Music classes for ages
birth through 5 years.
ome parts of the country they become so tame they come to pose for photographs.
The orange- and -black monarch but-
terfly is already on its migration south
and is stopping off in my garden for
refueling. How they persist on their
journey south. Through fair weather
and storm, over land and water, they
push on. In the evening they'll find a
communal tree and rest with folded
wings until the sun warms them up and
they are off on another leg of their jour-
ney. We marvel at man's technology
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Kickboxing - Stretch -N -Tone
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Yoga Classes
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RECEIVE A FREE GIFT.
o*Iousf
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Saturday, August 26
10 a.m. - 1 p.m.
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North Fork Fun-X-Fifness
54655 Main Road, Southold (a(ross from IGA) - %65-9118
feeding the newborn.
Wasps `and hornets were the first
paper makers, some making small
abodes while others, like the larger
bold -faced or white -faced hornet, build
a huge basketball -size nest. All these
papier -mache nests, whether large or
small, serve just one purpose, and that is
as a brood chamber for their young.
Once the season is over and the cold of
winter sets in, all die except the queens
that are buried in the ground or hidden
in the rubble outside our garages or
back fields.
Then the queens come out in the
spring and start a new colony, which
then switches over to nothing but the
queen laying eggs. And the workers do
the many jobs of nest building, feeding
the young, cleaning and protecting. And
so, what do you do when you have a
small wasp nest in an area where traffic
might interfere with it? We can destroy
the nest by pulling it off at night and
putting it into a zip -lock bag and dispos-
ing of it. But if it's not in the way of traf-
fic, just leave it there and time will take
care of it.
Most of these small paper -wasp nests
are guarded, but only when something
really affects their safety do the wasps
ever sting. You can stand around them,
look at them and they will not come and
sting you. Most are quite harmless if left
alone, the exception being probably the
big basketball -size nest, which should be
given a wider berth and still left alone.
This can have literally thousands of
workers in it and if disturbed can really
be a problem. So leave things mostly
where they are, give wide berth to the
big ones and enjoy the small ones, for
this is all just part of the world we live in.
gust 24, 2000 • The Suffolk Times • SA
a beautifli
ane
eer:
o garciener
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
We all know there are too many deer about. They literally do thousands and thousands of dollars
worth of damage to our plants, trees and bushes, to say nothing about their causing accidents on
the highway. in some parts of the country they become so tame they come to pose for photographs.
weeks in a hospital with its super - sterile
atmosphere of white. How good it was
to drive up our long tree -lined driveway
and then look across to the back pasture
with its greenery. At the far end was the
windmill telling us which way the slight-
est zephyr was coming from. It was good
to just stop and lis-
ten to the cicadas Focus
calling in the tree-
tops. ON
Cicadas love
heat — the hotter NATURE
the day, the more by Paul
they sing. There- Stoutenburgh
fore it's the heat of
August when we hear them best, and
what a rising call they have. We kids did-
n't know them as cicadas. We always
called them "locusts" which, of course,
in a truly technical term, they are not.
Often you'll find them on the ground,
probably after they've mated, for then
they die. Their big, dark, stubby bodies,
with their green glass -like wings and
bulging eyes are a real curio to look at.
Later the female will lay her eggs and
then she. too. dies.
The young hatch, fall to the ground
and burrow in, where they remain for
from four to 20 years, depending on the
species and location. They emerge after
this underground life to start the cycle
over again. And can you believe it? On
the way home from the hospital the other
day there was an adult cicada, spent,
lying in the driveway, reminding us once
again of nature's mysterious ways.
As evening takes over the night,
sounds fill the woods and trees around
us. The katydid sings its repetitive tree-
top song, "katy -did, katy - didn't, katy-
did," along with the multitude of other
little sounds of crickets, tree frogs and
their kind. And so, I have returned to
this wonderful North Fork to recuperate
and learn how to walk again.
The very next morning Barbara called
to me in a hushed voice, "Come here
and see what I see out in the pasture,"
My eyes scanned the lush green pasture
that's been spurred on by the recent
rains to exceptional growth. My eyes
traveled down past the little orchard,
past the clump of Russian olives where
the cows go to escape me neat, aiiu uicu
by the corner of the grape arbor I was
what her excitement was all about — a
young spotted fawn nursing beneath its
mother. Never before have I seen this
private feeding out in the open. Here
there was no hiding. We watched in awe
as they stood there in perfect innocence,
with the fawn's little while tail thrashing
back and forth, and an occasional
butting of its head against its mother tc
make the milk flow better. What a pic-
ture!
I'll probabl
regret this new
addition to the
deer herd that Iives
in our neighbor-
hood, for they
have destroyed our
orchard and gar-
den., During the
winter they
stripped my moun-
tain laurel, ravaged
the buds of my
prize rhododen-
drons and ate the
English ivy grow-
ing on the trees up
as high as they
could reach.
I'm sure many of
my readers have
the same problem
with deer. They are
so brazen they
even walk across
our patios, eat
under our bed-
room window and
dart back and forth
nd the four or five butterfly bushes are
he only color left, as most everything
Ise has been nibbled off by the deer.
ever mind. I'm thankful for what
they've left, for the color from the zinnia
patch and my butterfly bushes have
been working overtime attracting but-
terflies. The main visitors are what we
call the cabbage butterfly, a small,
whitish, seemingly always on the move,
one -inch butterfly. Then second in pop-
ularity are the monarchs. Next in popu-
larity are the yellow swallowtails.
The orange- and -black monarch but-
terfly is already. on its migration south
and is stopping off in my garden for
refueling. How they persist on their
journey south. Through fair weather
and storm, over land and water, they
push on. In the evening they'll find a
communal tree and rest with folded
wings until the sun warms them up and
they are off on another leg of their jour-1
ney. We marvel at man's technology
across our artve-
way as we drive in.
My heart goes out
to the farmer or nurseryman wWis o vs-
ited by one of these herds of deer. In one
night they can do thousands of dollars
worth of damage.
As .my eyes left this perfect picture of
mother and fawn feeding, I couldn't
help but notice the one bit of color left
in our garden. The zinnias evidently are
not on the deer's menu. They continual-
ly put out their colorful heads of yellow,
orange, red, pink and violet. The zinnias
while missing many of the natural won-
ders about us.
I had a'lady call me last week about
bees — not in her bonnet but in the
trunk of her father's car. With a little
investigation, I found they were con-
fined to little golf - ball -size parchment
nests, which meant that they weren't
bees at all, but wasps. Bees are nectar-
seeking insects while most wasps are
carnivorous, meaning they feed on spi-
ders and insects of all sorts. They also
indulge in nectar, particularly when
feeding the newborn.
Wasps and hornets were the first
paper makers, some making small
abodes while others, like the larger
bold -faced or white -faced hornet, build
a huge basketball -size nest. All these
papier -machd nests, whether large or
small, serve just one purpose, and that is
as a brood chamber for their young.
Once the season is over and the cold of
winter sets in, all die except the queens
that are buried in the ground or hidden
in the rubble outside our garages or
back fields.
Then the queens, come out in the
spring and start a new colony, which
then switches over to nothing but the
queen laying eggs. And the workers do
the many jobs of nest building, feeding
the young, cleaning and protecting. And
so, what do you do when you have a
small wasp nest in an area where .traffic
might interfere with it? We can destroy
the nest by pulling it off at night and
putting it into a zip -lock bag and dispos-
ing of it. But if it's not in the way of traf-
fic, just leave it there and time will take
care of it.
Most of these small paper -wasp nests
are guarded, but only when something
really affects their safety do the wasps
ever sting. You can stand arodnd therm,
look at them and they will not come and
sting you. Most are quite harmless if left
alone, the exception being probably the
big basketball -size nest, which should be
given a wider berth and still left alone.
This can have literally thousands of
workers in it and if disturbed can really
be a problem. So leave things mostly
where they are, give wide berth to the
big ones and enjoy the ,small ones, for
this is all just part of the world we live in.
gust 24, 2000 • The Suffolk Times • SA
a beautifli
ane
eer:
o garciener
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
We all know there are too many deer about. They literally do thousands and thousands of dollars
worth of damage to our plants, trees and bushes, to say nothing about their causing accidents on
the highway. in some parts of the country they become so tame they come to pose for photographs.
weeks in a hospital with its super - sterile
atmosphere of white. How good it was
to drive up our long tree -lined driveway
and then look across to the back pasture
with its greenery. At the far end was the
windmill telling us which way the slight-
est zephyr was coming from. It was good
to just stop and lis-
ten to the cicadas Focus
calling in the tree-
tops. ON
Cicadas love
heat — the hotter NATURE
the day, the more by Paul
they sing. There- Stoutenburgh
fore it's the heat of
August when we hear them best, and
what a rising call they have. We kids did-
n't know them as cicadas. We always
called them "locusts" which, of course,
in a truly technical term, they are not.
Often you'll find them on the ground,
probably after they've mated, for then
they die. Their big, dark, stubby bodies,
with their green glass -like wings and
bulging eyes are a real curio to look at.
Later the female will lay her eggs and
then she. too. dies.
The young hatch, fall to the ground
and burrow in, where they remain for
from four to 20 years, depending on the
species and location. They emerge after
this underground life to start the cycle
over again. And can you believe it? On
the way home from the hospital the other
day there was an adult cicada, spent,
lying in the driveway, reminding us once
again of nature's mysterious ways.
As evening takes over the night,
sounds fill the woods and trees around
us. The katydid sings its repetitive tree-
top song, "katy -did, katy - didn't, katy-
did," along with the multitude of other
little sounds of crickets, tree frogs and
their kind. And so, I have returned to
this wonderful North Fork to recuperate
and learn how to walk again.
The very next morning Barbara called
to me in a hushed voice, "Come here
and see what I see out in the pasture,"
My eyes scanned the lush green pasture
that's been spurred on by the recent
rains to exceptional growth. My eyes
traveled down past the little orchard,
past the clump of Russian olives where
the cows go to escape me neat, aiiu uicu
by the corner of the grape arbor I was
what her excitement was all about — a
young spotted fawn nursing beneath its
mother. Never before have I seen this
private feeding out in the open. Here
there was no hiding. We watched in awe
as they stood there in perfect innocence,
with the fawn's little while tail thrashing
back and forth, and an occasional
butting of its head against its mother tc
make the milk flow better. What a pic-
ture!
I'll probabl
regret this new
addition to the
deer herd that Iives
in our neighbor-
hood, for they
have destroyed our
orchard and gar-
den., During the
winter they
stripped my moun-
tain laurel, ravaged
the buds of my
prize rhododen-
drons and ate the
English ivy grow-
ing on the trees up
as high as they
could reach.
I'm sure many of
my readers have
the same problem
with deer. They are
so brazen they
even walk across
our patios, eat
under our bed-
room window and
dart back and forth
nd the four or five butterfly bushes are
he only color left, as most everything
Ise has been nibbled off by the deer.
ever mind. I'm thankful for what
they've left, for the color from the zinnia
patch and my butterfly bushes have
been working overtime attracting but-
terflies. The main visitors are what we
call the cabbage butterfly, a small,
whitish, seemingly always on the move,
one -inch butterfly. Then second in pop-
ularity are the monarchs. Next in popu-
larity are the yellow swallowtails.
The orange- and -black monarch but-
terfly is already. on its migration south
and is stopping off in my garden for
refueling. How they persist on their
journey south. Through fair weather
and storm, over land and water, they
push on. In the evening they'll find a
communal tree and rest with folded
wings until the sun warms them up and
they are off on another leg of their jour-1
ney. We marvel at man's technology
across our artve-
way as we drive in.
My heart goes out
to the farmer or nurseryman wWis o vs-
ited by one of these herds of deer. In one
night they can do thousands of dollars
worth of damage.
As .my eyes left this perfect picture of
mother and fawn feeding, I couldn't
help but notice the one bit of color left
in our garden. The zinnias evidently are
not on the deer's menu. They continual-
ly put out their colorful heads of yellow,
orange, red, pink and violet. The zinnias
while missing many of the natural won-
ders about us.
I had a'lady call me last week about
bees — not in her bonnet but in the
trunk of her father's car. With a little
investigation, I found they were con-
fined to little golf - ball -size parchment
nests, which meant that they weren't
bees at all, but wasps. Bees are nectar-
seeking insects while most wasps are
carnivorous, meaning they feed on spi-
ders and insects of all sorts. They also
indulge in nectar, particularly when
feeding the newborn.
Wasps and hornets were the first
paper makers, some making small
abodes while others, like the larger
bold -faced or white -faced hornet, build
a huge basketball -size nest. All these
papier -machd nests, whether large or
small, serve just one purpose, and that is
as a brood chamber for their young.
Once the season is over and the cold of
winter sets in, all die except the queens
that are buried in the ground or hidden
in the rubble outside our garages or
back fields.
Then the queens, come out in the
spring and start a new colony, which
then switches over to nothing but the
queen laying eggs. And the workers do
the many jobs of nest building, feeding
the young, cleaning and protecting. And
so, what do you do when you have a
small wasp nest in an area where .traffic
might interfere with it? We can destroy
the nest by pulling it off at night and
putting it into a zip -lock bag and dispos-
ing of it. But if it's not in the way of traf-
fic, just leave it there and time will take
care of it.
Most of these small paper -wasp nests
are guarded, but only when something
really affects their safety do the wasps
ever sting. You can stand arodnd therm,
look at them and they will not come and
sting you. Most are quite harmless if left
alone, the exception being probably the
big basketball -size nest, which should be
given a wider berth and still left alone.
This can have literally thousands of
workers in it and if disturbed can really
be a problem. So leave things mostly
where they are, give wide berth to the
big ones and enjoy the ,small ones, for
this is all just part of the world we live in.
gust 24, 2000 • The Suffolk Times • SA
a beautifli
ane
eer:
o garciener
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
We all know there are too many deer about. They literally do thousands and thousands of dollars
worth of damage to our plants, trees and bushes, to say nothing about their causing accidents on
the highway. in some parts of the country they become so tame they come to pose for photographs.
weeks in a hospital with its super - sterile
atmosphere of white. How good it was
to drive up our long tree -lined driveway
and then look across to the back pasture
with its greenery. At the far end was the
windmill telling us which way the slight-
est zephyr was coming from. It was good
to just stop and lis-
ten to the cicadas Focus
calling in the tree-
tops. ON
Cicadas love
heat — the hotter NATURE
the day, the more by Paul
they sing. There- Stoutenburgh
fore it's the heat of
August when we hear them best, and
what a rising call they have. We kids did-
n't know them as cicadas. We always
called them "locusts" which, of course,
in a truly technical term, they are not.
Often you'll find them on the ground,
probably after they've mated, for then
they die. Their big, dark, stubby bodies,
with their green glass -like wings and
bulging eyes are a real curio to look at.
Later the female will lay her eggs and
then she. too. dies.
The young hatch, fall to the ground
and burrow in, where they remain for
from four to 20 years, depending on the
species and location. They emerge after
this underground life to start the cycle
over again. And can you believe it? On
the way home from the hospital the other
day there was an adult cicada, spent,
lying in the driveway, reminding us once
again of nature's mysterious ways.
As evening takes over the night,
sounds fill the woods and trees around
us. The katydid sings its repetitive tree-
top song, "katy -did, katy - didn't, katy-
did," along with the multitude of other
little sounds of crickets, tree frogs and
their kind. And so, I have returned to
this wonderful North Fork to recuperate
and learn how to walk again.
The very next morning Barbara called
to me in a hushed voice, "Come here
and see what I see out in the pasture,"
My eyes scanned the lush green pasture
that's been spurred on by the recent
rains to exceptional growth. My eyes
traveled down past the little orchard,
past the clump of Russian olives where
the cows go to escape me neat, aiiu uicu
by the corner of the grape arbor I was
what her excitement was all about — a
young spotted fawn nursing beneath its
mother. Never before have I seen this
private feeding out in the open. Here
there was no hiding. We watched in awe
as they stood there in perfect innocence,
with the fawn's little while tail thrashing
back and forth, and an occasional
butting of its head against its mother tc
make the milk flow better. What a pic-
ture!
I'll probabl
regret this new
addition to the
deer herd that Iives
in our neighbor-
hood, for they
have destroyed our
orchard and gar-
den., During the
winter they
stripped my moun-
tain laurel, ravaged
the buds of my
prize rhododen-
drons and ate the
English ivy grow-
ing on the trees up
as high as they
could reach.
I'm sure many of
my readers have
the same problem
with deer. They are
so brazen they
even walk across
our patios, eat
under our bed-
room window and
dart back and forth
nd the four or five butterfly bushes are
he only color left, as most everything
Ise has been nibbled off by the deer.
ever mind. I'm thankful for what
they've left, for the color from the zinnia
patch and my butterfly bushes have
been working overtime attracting but-
terflies. The main visitors are what we
call the cabbage butterfly, a small,
whitish, seemingly always on the move,
one -inch butterfly. Then second in pop-
ularity are the monarchs. Next in popu-
larity are the yellow swallowtails.
The orange- and -black monarch but-
terfly is already. on its migration south
and is stopping off in my garden for
refueling. How they persist on their
journey south. Through fair weather
and storm, over land and water, they
push on. In the evening they'll find a
communal tree and rest with folded
wings until the sun warms them up and
they are off on another leg of their jour-1
ney. We marvel at man's technology
across our artve-
way as we drive in.
My heart goes out
to the farmer or nurseryman wWis o vs-
ited by one of these herds of deer. In one
night they can do thousands of dollars
worth of damage.
As .my eyes left this perfect picture of
mother and fawn feeding, I couldn't
help but notice the one bit of color left
in our garden. The zinnias evidently are
not on the deer's menu. They continual-
ly put out their colorful heads of yellow,
orange, red, pink and violet. The zinnias
while missing many of the natural won-
ders about us.
I had a'lady call me last week about
bees — not in her bonnet but in the
trunk of her father's car. With a little
investigation, I found they were con-
fined to little golf - ball -size parchment
nests, which meant that they weren't
bees at all, but wasps. Bees are nectar-
seeking insects while most wasps are
carnivorous, meaning they feed on spi-
ders and insects of all sorts. They also
indulge in nectar, particularly when
feeding the newborn.
Wasps and hornets were the first
paper makers, some making small
abodes while others, like the larger
bold -faced or white -faced hornet, build
a huge basketball -size nest. All these
papier -machd nests, whether large or
small, serve just one purpose, and that is
as a brood chamber for their young.
Once the season is over and the cold of
winter sets in, all die except the queens
that are buried in the ground or hidden
in the rubble outside our garages or
back fields.
Then the queens, come out in the
spring and start a new colony, which
then switches over to nothing but the
queen laying eggs. And the workers do
the many jobs of nest building, feeding
the young, cleaning and protecting. And
so, what do you do when you have a
small wasp nest in an area where .traffic
might interfere with it? We can destroy
the nest by pulling it off at night and
putting it into a zip -lock bag and dispos-
ing of it. But if it's not in the way of traf-
fic, just leave it there and time will take
care of it.
Most of these small paper -wasp nests
are guarded, but only when something
really affects their safety do the wasps
ever sting. You can stand arodnd therm,
look at them and they will not come and
sting you. Most are quite harmless if left
alone, the exception being probably the
big basketball -size nest, which should be
given a wider berth and still left alone.
This can have literally thousands of
workers in it and if disturbed can really
be a problem. So leave things mostly
where they are, give wide berth to the
big ones and enjoy the ,small ones, for
this is all just part of the world we live in.