It's hard to be stoic, not to stand there wringing my hands and gritting my teeth at my impotence in the face of the threat. The squirrels are on the rampage. Huge herds of them are marauding in the garden, sharp teeth and claws at the ready. Like a swarm of famished locusts, they descend on any and every bud and bloom in the garden and gnaw it off.
Sorry, I got a bit carried away there, but the garden is at a dangerous point. The snow has melted and new life is sprouting everywhere. The squirrels are getting hungry, having depleted their winter stores of peanuts. Ordinarily, I'd just head out in the garden armed with critter repellent. That won't work right now, as it must be applied when the repellent isn't a block of ice in the bottle and when it's not going to rain or snow for the next four hours. It's chilly and dripping out there now. There's nothing I can do to stop the hungry beasts. I have only so much chickenwire, and it really isn't practical to wrap an entire Witch Hazel.This flower used to be attached to Hammamelis x 'Sunburst.'
I suppose I could stay home all day, glued to the window while armed with a broom, ready to chase them away the moment they descend from the trees, but that's bordering on the pathological. Things get eaten. Plants get damaged. It happens. Life goes on. The plants will recover, and so will I. It's all part of being a gardener.