Going Batty

Last week, my husband and I were discussing the yard and gardens – where to move this plant or that plant, when to cut back the pesky vines that keep creeping over a neighbor’s fence into our rock garden, what we may still have time to plant this year, and other garden chores that needed to be completed.  We talked about expanding from tomato plants to a real veggie garden.  We talked about our long-planned backyard overhaul that still has not begun due to his work schedule and time constraints for both of us as well as those that have offered to help with the project.  Towards the end of this conversation, my husband announced that he had a few things he wanted to get for the yard.  I asked him to elaborate and he replied, “Well, a squirrel feeder, a butterfly house, and…a bat house.”  The first two items flowed out of his mouth easily and happily and I was quick to agree, but the last item sort of climbed its way out, knowing that my reaction to it would be less than favorable.  My first thoughts were as follows:  A bat house?  Really?  Why?  What would the neighbors have to say about it?  I had already heard some comments about the increased numbers of birds and critters that visit our feeders in our yard and the rock garden that sits at the very back of our property but what would they say or do about a bat house?  I had sudden visions of petitions being signed.  I based my objections to the bat house on the neighbors and not the fact that I find bats incredibly creepy.  My husband dug his heels in on the matter though.  His reasoning for the bat house was that a bat can ingest up to 1000 mosquitoes in one night.  Uh-oh!  He had done his homework!  He was ready for whatever objection I threw out there.  I didn’t have a chance.  I asked him to let me sit with the idea for a while, saying in true Yoda fashion, “Meditate on this, I will.”

Later in the week, I sat in the yard and, even though I had the citronella candles going, I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes, huge lumps appearing on my legs and arms and wherever else they got me, and I started thinking about the bat house idea.  Like I said before, I find bats creepy.  Why?  Maybe it’s because I’ve heard stories about bats getting caught in people’s hair or stories about them getting into people’s homes.  The true reason, though, is because the subject of bats is not something in which I am well-versed.  So, off to the computer I went to research the subject of bats.  I won’t go into all the scientific jargon here but I did find out some things which really eased my fear of these little creepy flying critters.  Bat populations are declining due to disappearing habitat.  They are essential in maintaining a health ecosystem because they act as natural pest control in garden and farm settings and keep insect populations down where needed.  Yes, they can eat 1000 flying insects per night.  This includes mosquitoes, moths and some beetles.  In a University of Florida News article from October 2001, it was noted that “a few dozen bats can make a difference in a neighborhood” for this reason.  Without bats, we would be overrun by insects.  Right there I was sold.  No more bites with associated crazed itching.  No more threat of West Nile Virus.  No more spraying myself down with insect repellent, which I only do in extreme cases because I hate the stuff.  I also thought about the neighbors and how they would be saved from the blood-thirsty monsters.  How could they object?  It looked like a bat house was in my very near future.

But in doing this research, I found some more information about bats that struck me on a more spiritual level.  Bats symbolize illusion, rebirth, intuition, and journeying among many other things.  They symbolize rebirth because they live in the belly of Mother Earth (caves) and emerge every evening from Her belly.  Because they are nocturnal, they have long been associated with vampires, who also rise only at night.  Hence, Dracula turning into a bat.  Native Americans believed bats were very powerful and would invoke the spirit of bats when they needed the ability to see through darkness to the truth or heart of a matter.  For this reason, they are also symbolic of psychic abilities, intuition and dreams.  They are cloaked in mystery because of their very nature and, therefore, have long been misunderstood as well as greatly revered.  Needless to say, bats aren’t so creepy to me anymore.  I know consider them a necessity and just another connection to nature.

I figured that my husband had already discovered all the scientific ins and outs of bats during his own research so I shared only the symbolism portion of my research, which I think impressed him because this meant I was considering the bat house idea.  We set about our weekend and, once again, another night of mosquitoes biting ensued.  I then started calling the “Bat House Idea” the “Bat House Solution”.  So, last night, we moved on to actually looking at and pricing bat houses.  While we sat at the computer together, the hubby also showed me the butterfly houses he was considering.  A no-brainer.  Who doesn’t love butterflies?  There were also ladybug houses, which were adorable and offer another sort of natural pest control for my plants and flowers.  Then we came across bee houses!  “Do you think we could keep bees?”, I asked him (but that is a subject for another day).  Next, we’ll be delving into the world of how to get the bats to take up residence in the bat house as well as local township ordinances, if any, regarding keeping a bat house.

Through this process, I think we have realized something about our little backyard and the gardens we have created.  We are working towards something self-sustaining and self-preserving.  We are creating a system of natural checks and balances for ourselves and the creatures and plants around us.  We are making a better place for ourselves in this small part of our world and perhaps it will have a larger impact on the world around us, on our future and the future of all of those around us, whether it is human, flora or fauna.

A Lesson from Gaia

Last week, it rained from Sunday to Friday.  Seven days of rain!  Each day, I'd look out the windows at my gardens and see it growing before my eyes.  It was so green and lush and I longed to get out there with my flowers and plants.  I would get a few minutes here and there, when the showers were very light, almost a mist, or when they would cease temporarily until the next one would come along.  I didn't mind the rain but after a few days of no sun and no real outdoor time, I was starting to get a bit stir crazy.  Finally, this past Friday, it began to lift.  I was able to get outside to cut some roses for my vases in the house and clean up the rose bushes a bit.  I did a bit of weeding in the front garden beds.  At times, I was so intoxicated by the fragrances of the roses mixed with the rich scent of the wet earth that I would just sit or stand there being in the moment, at total peace.  That evening, I walked around my house, sipping a glass of wine, and stopped at each vase of roses I had filled earlier in the day and once again was overcome by the scent of fresh roses and greens in the house.

Saturday morning I awoke to a very pleasant surprise.  The sun!  The windows of my house were bursting with golden light and I jumped out of bed, giddy with joy.  I grabbed my first cup of coffee and headed right out the back door in my jammies to create a mental Garden To Do list.  I got the regular household chores out of the way and then headed out to the garden later that afternoon.  I spent four hours weeding the garden beds in the back of the house, pruning old blooms from the lilac bush, cleaning and refilling bird feeders and bird baths, and pruning the Burkwood's Broom.  Although I was tugging away at weeds and contorting my body around this plant or that plant so as not to disturb them while I worked around them, I was once again at total peace.  I looked forward to another day of sun, as promised by our local weather reporters, on Sunday.

However, Sunday dawned as an "iffy" day.  The sun peaked in and out.  It seemed damp, chilly and unsettled again.  My husband and I ran errrands in the morning.  When we got home, I went back and forth on whether I would work out in the front gardens.  Finally, I grabbed my basket of gardening tools and headed out there.  My focus for the day was the ivy I have growing across the front of the house.  It was beginning to grow out of control because of all the rain, invading my rose bushes and my neighbor's garden beds, and was creeping closer and closer to the house.  I aplogized to the ivy as I began cutting it back.  I truly did feel bad about it.  After all, it was doing what ivy does but the other plants and flowers did not appreciate it.  As I began pulling long tendrils of ivy from under the bushes along my front steps and clearing out the leaves and other debris that had built up under them, the scent of fertile soil hit me.  A thought then occurred to me.  I had cut the ivy back before over the years but it had been some time since I had last done this.  The leaves that had been trapped beneath the ivy had composted down to provide essential nutrients for the soil.  Here I was clearing the debris out when it could get put to good use.  After removing the ivy, I set about returning some of the more decayed and wet material back under the bushes and around some of the garden beds.  The flowers and plants seemed to stand taller and say a silent "Thank You" as I did this.

Later that day, my husband had to make a trip to the hardware store to get some items to repair my fountain that sits in the garden bed outside my front door.  I went along for the ride and wandered about the garden section.  It was there I had an "Ah-Ha Moment".  I was turning from one aisle to the next when one word caught my eye - COMPOST.  I could not contain my excitement!  I must have looked crazed as I went speed walking through the store to locate my husband and calling to him.  I brought him over to the aisle and showed him the compost bins there.  "We should be doing this!", I announced.  "We're putting garden trash in plastic bags and sending it to some landfill somewhere when we could be composting it and using it in the gardens!  We're ruining the planet and trying to save it all at the same time.  We're bad gardeners!  Mother Earth is not happy with us right now!"  I was beside myself with guilt but joyful at the same time that the Universe of Infinite Solutions had smacked me in the face a few times this weekend.  The hubby agreed with me on all levels and we are now in the midst of pricing and investigating compost bins and figuring out where we'll put them on our very small property and how to compost properly.  We have even gone as far as to begin to investigate gathering rain in a barrell to reuse in the gardens (a thought that dawned on me when it began raining again later that evening).

In contemplating the past few days, I have come to another realization.  Perhaps it is very good thing that I am becoming an avid gardener and wanting to preserve my very, very small section of the planet.  With all the talk of doomsday scenarios lately, maybe it is a good thing to know how to grow things, to recycle, to reuse, to repurpose, to preserve, to create balance among the elements in my own backyard.  What if, one day, a solar flare takes out our entire electrical, technological and mechanical grids as some scientists predict?  How will we survive?  Mother Earth is already raging from the insults human beings have slung at her over the years.  We are seeing some of the biggest natural disasters in centuries unfold in some parts of the world on a more regular basis.  She wants Her fertile Earth, Her crisp clean oceans, Her clear blue sky and Her abundant flora and fauna back.  I want to help Her heal Her wounds and reap the benefits of living in Her graces.  I want my son to grow up to care for Her and to teach his children to do the same.  Yes, I have much more work to do to attain that goal.

Today in writing this and doing some research about gardening and how it benefits the Earth, I came across a study performed by Dr. James Lovelock FRS (Fellow of the Royal Society) and Dr. Sidney Epton in the 1970's.  It is called the Gaia Hypothesis and is based on two propositions:  one, that "life exists only because material conditions on Earth happen to be just right for its existence" and two, that "life defines the material conditions needed for its survival and makes sure they stay there".  Their conclusions in this study were that the Earth "seemed to exhibit the behaviour of a single organism, even a living creature" and that "in man, Gaia has the equivalent of a central nervous system and an awareness of herself and the rest of the Universe. Through man, she has a rudimentary capacity, capable of development, to anticipate and guard against threats to her existence".  I think that speaks volumes to us.  The full account of this study can be found in Dr. Lovelock's book entitled, "Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth", a book which I will be purchasing this week to accompany me on this journey.