Attacked by moles!
Okay, so there was only one mole. And to be fair, I did "attack" first – but not really.
We were taking a break from digging a truckload of compost into the ginormous hole in the ground that is going to be our garden this year, when I noticed the ground appeared to be digging itself in one corner. Soil was writhing and undulating ... then still again ... then ... moving a little more ...
Realizing it had to be either a gopher or a mole, and since we were both standing there with shovels in our hands, we decided to move quickly. These seldom-seen creatures are some of my favorites (notwithstanding the destruction they've been wreaking on our neatly planted rows of spinach, lettuce and chard), and it's usually impossible to really get a look at one unless it's already dead. So we ever so silently crept toward the scene of the disturbance, Mr. A with shovel raised and me poised to grab.
At the signal, he PLUNGED the shovel in deep and flipped the mole up into the light of day. I was thinking it would be stunned by the suddenness of this maneuver, and sit still long enough for us to take a gander at its adorable giant pink hands and little pointed snout. But no. It started screaming and instantly dug itself back into the loose soil – seriously, instantly. Without thinking, I lunged forward and grabbed it (very gently, of course), wanting just a micro-second more to look at the thing.
That was when it bit me. I was wearing heavy leather work gloves (would not have tried to touch it without them) so it didn't break the skin, but wow – if I hadn't been wearing them those teeth would have done some damage. It was fighting for its life!
I dropped it of course, and then – I don't know why I can't just leave these things alone – urgently commanded Mr. A to dig it out again. Then the whole cycle repeated, concluding with more hair-raising screams, frantic scrambling, vicious biting and a split-second (yet well-considered) decision to let the mole get back to what he'd been doing before we so rudely interrupted.
Let this be a lesson to me: never dig in the dirt, or go anywhere or do anything at all, without the camera within easy reach. I would love to have had a little video of the mole digging its way back to safety. From the state of our planting beds recently though I suspect I may have more than just this one opportunity to get that footage this year.
P.S. Since everyone and their dog seems to be "going green" these days I decided to reduce-reuse-and-recycle last year's spring header, at least until I get around to doing a new one.
We were taking a break from digging a truckload of compost into the ginormous hole in the ground that is going to be our garden this year, when I noticed the ground appeared to be digging itself in one corner. Soil was writhing and undulating ... then still again ... then ... moving a little more ...
Realizing it had to be either a gopher or a mole, and since we were both standing there with shovels in our hands, we decided to move quickly. These seldom-seen creatures are some of my favorites (notwithstanding the destruction they've been wreaking on our neatly planted rows of spinach, lettuce and chard), and it's usually impossible to really get a look at one unless it's already dead. So we ever so silently crept toward the scene of the disturbance, Mr. A with shovel raised and me poised to grab.
At the signal, he PLUNGED the shovel in deep and flipped the mole up into the light of day. I was thinking it would be stunned by the suddenness of this maneuver, and sit still long enough for us to take a gander at its adorable giant pink hands and little pointed snout. But no. It started screaming and instantly dug itself back into the loose soil – seriously, instantly. Without thinking, I lunged forward and grabbed it (very gently, of course), wanting just a micro-second more to look at the thing.
That was when it bit me. I was wearing heavy leather work gloves (would not have tried to touch it without them) so it didn't break the skin, but wow – if I hadn't been wearing them those teeth would have done some damage. It was fighting for its life!
I dropped it of course, and then – I don't know why I can't just leave these things alone – urgently commanded Mr. A to dig it out again. Then the whole cycle repeated, concluding with more hair-raising screams, frantic scrambling, vicious biting and a split-second (yet well-considered) decision to let the mole get back to what he'd been doing before we so rudely interrupted.
Let this be a lesson to me: never dig in the dirt, or go anywhere or do anything at all, without the camera within easy reach. I would love to have had a little video of the mole digging its way back to safety. From the state of our planting beds recently though I suspect I may have more than just this one opportunity to get that footage this year.
P.S. Since everyone and their dog seems to be "going green" these days I decided to reduce-reuse-and-recycle last year's spring header, at least until I get around to doing a new one.
4 Comments:
wow, I'm not sure i would have been brave enough to do that, leather gloves or no. On another subject, can i ask you how you made your header? Did you use photoshop? And then did you put the file on your desktop and upload it into your site from there? I was looking at your source code and can't figure out how you did it.
looks nice, though!
I could have told you this (the biting, the fighting for its life). As a youngun I once hand-caught a pet mouse that had escaped from its cage just weeks earlier. Although we had previously been on friendly, hold-me-in-your-hand-and-pet-me terms, it reacted by sinking its front fangs into my baby-soft palm. Wild thing! I dropped it like a hot potato, and never saw it again.
--g
Jaysus! I can't believe you picked it up once let alone twice. Moles freak me out and I've only ever seen photos of them. The star-nosed mole is freakiest of all.
Rozanne, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but thank you very much for the reference to the star-nosed mole because it inspired my finding this interesting article.
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