When we returned from a hike this morning, we discovered that a critter had taken a merry romp through the planters.  Like Paul Bunyan and his blue ox Babe (who, while roughhousing, created the Rockies and the Grand Canyon), the little beastie disrupted the smooth surface of the soil and left it hillocky and rough, the mulch scattered about.

I’m aware that I am sometimes overly concerned with order in the garden and am an unabashed neatnik.  I know that tidiness does not lead to better produce and that oftentimes, in fact, the effort I exert laying out straight rows of vegetables and sweeping up spilled compost might be more efficaciously applied elsewhere.

I’ve come to this conclusion on my own, though, and do not need a self-righteous squirrel or busybody woodchuck to show me some tough love.  Besides, I will have to clean this mess up and when I do, the mulch and compost I layered on yesterday will get mixed in.  Don’t these animals know we prefer the no-till method?

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