Now that the calendar has been turned to the month of October, with all certainty, I can announce that this has been a year of the rabbit. For the Chinese, it is a year of the ox. I had to look that up to make sure that something more strange has not been in play this season. Of course, that is the other side of the globe. Are rabbits the opposite of an ox? I will leave that question unanswered.
Back to the mid-Atlantic, mid-Maryland terrain in which the farm resides… What has been witnessed this year, and to much dismay, has been rabbits, heaps and hordes of rabbits. Initially, I approached the healthy population of the seemingly docile creatures whimsically due to my extensive experience with those mammals, saying that rabbits don’t eat much. Oh how wrong that statement was. As I naively traverse the years in the realm of farming, that is, nature, there is almost a constant lesson to be learned, and this year, the rabbits that have always made a home on the farm seemed to want to prove that they are not as docile as assumed.
Early in the season, rabbits were everywhere. Whenever the hilly terrain was traversed to a new area, inevitably a couple of rabbits were viewed chomping on some vegetation which was normally grass. The number of the creatures was alarming. There were dozens of them in open view at any particular time of the day. This should have been a sign. Perhaps it was. What was not witnessed were the foxes that normally make an appearance at the same time. After many conversations with others who have witnessed nature’s patterns throughout the years, when the foxes are not around, the rabbits flourish… and devour.
This cycle, that of few predators and multiple furry vegetation eating critters, is not too difficult of a situation to comprehend, if that was all that was involved. Throughout the year, those seemingly innocuous rabbits grew more and more brazen and voracious as the season developed. It appeared that whenever those small “harmless” creatures were ignored or left alone, they quickly learned that they could take advantage of the situation and push the extremes of what is naturally acceptable. I’ll explain.
Early on, in June, rabbits were viewed chomping on grass outside of the greenhouses. I left them dine in peace. It seemed that every time I travelled to the greenhouses, about three or four rabbits of varying sizes were nibbling on the straight blades of grass outside of the structures. They would watch my movements attentively, but I made no motion of attack, so they kept chewing away, content on the huge plate of food at their disposal. I must pause here to describe that it was not only grass that they dined on. Throughout the mowed portion of the farm are all kinds of delectable greens, from white clover, red clover, wild chicory and lettuce, purslane, dock and baby poke weed, otherwise known as poor man’s asparagus, in short, in was quite a salad bar upon which those unmolested creatures feasted!
Was that enough to satiate their diet? Nooooo. They were not satisfied with the amount of vegetation that could keep them alive for a hundred years along with a thousand other rabbits. No, they just had to go into the greenhouses, to snoop, as it were, to find the red beets. It must have been something akin to a candy store for those rabbits, because those beets were nibbled to the brink of death. My first reaction was to close the greenhouse doors at night. Brilliant! Not really. Once the chance for frost is past, the roll-up sides of the structure are kept rolled-up for ventilation purposes. Those rabbits quickly realized that the twelve inch high board that runs the length of the building can easily be hopped over, and… BEETS!
I tolerated that intrusion, for I still held in my mind that rabbits don’t eat much. I admit that the aggressiveness of their actions was beginning to be unsettling, but this was still early in the season. Nonetheless, every time I entered one of the greenhouses, some form of rabbit, usually a rather small form was witnessed. The ones inside the salad and beet greenhouse were quickly chased out. Once again, my lack of aggressiveness was merely a temporary fix, for those patient rabbits knew that I would not stay in the greenhouse all day. After reflecting on this for some time, their actions are not all that dissimilar to humans, who when given a chance to dine on sweets will act in many devious and clandestine manners in order to retrieve those treats. The cliché cookie jar on top of a refrigerator comes to mind.
But it was still the beginning of the season. In Greenhouse 2, tomatoes had been planted and sometime in June, I pruned and tied the plants to direct their growth upward instead of outward. (A small amount of knowledge of how tomato plants grow is needed here.) While I was in the structure toiling away, an out of the ordinary sound was heard. It sounded like… well, I really don’t know how to describe the sound. Visually, however, I might be able to describe the scene. A rather small rabbit seemed to have found a home, or perhaps a playground inside the greenhouse. As I was on one side of the structure, it ran back and forth along the length of the other side. As it sprinted back and forth, it repeatedly landed on the plastic drip tape used for irrigation. That is the sound that is difficult to explain. Nonetheless, every couple of minutes, the sound of the rabbit’s rapid movement permeated the somewhat enclosed structure. It was having quite a good time.
But then, for some reason, the running ceased. Curiously, I glanced around to see if the creature was still in the greenhouse. At first, it was not spotted. That was because my gaze was focused too far away. The young rabbit had actually approached dangerously close to my own activity. The use of the term “dangerously” was obviously from my own point of view, for the tiny rabbit sensed no danger, and in fact, since I was not concerned with it at the time, it was truly in no danger. Nonetheless, the juvenile rabbit had moved to within a yard of me. At first, I thought that it was merely curious about the rather large mammal’s activities within its playground. Such was not the case. As my movements lopped off a section of tomato plant and dropped it on the ground, the naïve creature must have thought I was giving it food! In a somewhat confident manner, it approached the prunings with its nostrils moving rapidly to determine what type of food it was being offered. Where was the mother during all of this? Where were the guardians to teach the tiny youth that farmers do not exert effort to feed rabbits? Unless they are to be eaten! What was going on? Instead of rabbits timidly chomping on grass blades at a distance, they were attacking my pruning efforts within a greenhouse! Ah, but this was only one of the first steps in the rabbit evolution on the farm this year.
I have mentioned rabbit presense in Fields 3 and 4 earlier, but the extent of their mischief has not been described. I hesitate to explain this because it is completely exasperating. As described earlier, there is almost three feet of chicken wire that surrounds those fields at the bottom of the deer fence. It has become quite understood that the rabbit population realizes that if they climb up a few feet, the black meshing of deer fence above the chicken wire can easily, and seemingly enjoyably, be chewed through to gain entrance to the fields. At one time during the season, six rabbits were witnessed within the fields. Six! My efforts of chasing them revealed at least three new entry points. All of those breaches were above the chicken wire. At this point, there are at least a half dozen more. To top this off, the rabbits now do not travel into the fields when I can notice them. It is as though they formed a meeting of sorts and formed a plan on how to infiltrate my lovingly nurtured produce to devour at will. What I have been witnessing was evolution in progress! Those docile creatures have reverted to guerilla warfare! And where does it stop? In my wildly imaginative mind, probably when they can fly! And that would only be a new beginning!
Ah,rabbits! I had held a specific area of animosity solely for those confounded groundhogs, and now, NOW, rabbits have forced themselves onto that same list. Well, the situation has changed. I now definitely realize that rabbits can devour quite a bit. And when left alone, that devastation can be quite drastic. This year of the rabbit has taught me quite a valuable lesson. As a result, I announce to all those seemingly docile furry creatures that there is a new approach on the farm… No more Mr. Nice Guy!!!