Return of the bats
One of the unexpected joys of our new house has been the fig tree, which was surprisingly prolific last summer considering its dead-like scabrous condition during winter when we first moved in. Perhaps it overheard me saying that we should cut it down because of said dead-like appearance, and made a special effort to show us that it was still alive.
Anyhow, several very pleased people benefited from our fig tree last season, because we don't actually like figs very much. They're okay, you know? But other people go mad for them and they are expensive to buy, so the fig tree made us quite happy by allowing us to give figs away and make friends and family happy. Friends and family and all our neighbourhood bats apparently, who ate the majority of the crop. Short of caging the entire tree in wire mesh, I'm not sure that we could have really prevented them from taking what they wanted!
This year, the fig has grown in masses, throwing out an explosion of bright green leaves over the first warm days of spring and then taking it from there. Luckily, it hasn't just contented itself with producing a dense foliage and plenty of little figlets have appeared as well. One was nearly ripe a few days ago, but before we could pick it, it disappeared!
Tonight, Bear and I are sitting in the study (the fig tree is just outside the window) when I hear the tell-tale flap-flap-flap-flap-CRASH! that is the sound of a bat (crash)landing in our tree. I tell Bear and he is mildly concerned, noting that there was another fig that was about to ripen. He is, however, looking at second-hand cars to buy and is concentrating hard on trying to find something cool despite being cheap, small and Japanese (my criteria). A moment later, I go to the toilet, and I hear Bear walking past. He says, I'm going to chase that bat away.
I protest. I tell him not to, the bat has to eat too!
He says, I don't want it to eat my fig.
I plead, But you weren't going to eat it either!
(Silence. I am trapped, powerless, on the toilet seat.)
Bear comes back in, satisfied. He tells me that there are other fig trees in the neighbourhood and that the bat can go and eat from them.
...
Well that was half an hour ago and Bear has gone to bed now. Which is just as well, because I have just heard another flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-CRASH!
:D
Anyhow, several very pleased people benefited from our fig tree last season, because we don't actually like figs very much. They're okay, you know? But other people go mad for them and they are expensive to buy, so the fig tree made us quite happy by allowing us to give figs away and make friends and family happy. Friends and family and all our neighbourhood bats apparently, who ate the majority of the crop. Short of caging the entire tree in wire mesh, I'm not sure that we could have really prevented them from taking what they wanted!
This year, the fig has grown in masses, throwing out an explosion of bright green leaves over the first warm days of spring and then taking it from there. Luckily, it hasn't just contented itself with producing a dense foliage and plenty of little figlets have appeared as well. One was nearly ripe a few days ago, but before we could pick it, it disappeared!
Tonight, Bear and I are sitting in the study (the fig tree is just outside the window) when I hear the tell-tale flap-flap-flap-flap-CRASH! that is the sound of a bat (crash)landing in our tree. I tell Bear and he is mildly concerned, noting that there was another fig that was about to ripen. He is, however, looking at second-hand cars to buy and is concentrating hard on trying to find something cool despite being cheap, small and Japanese (my criteria). A moment later, I go to the toilet, and I hear Bear walking past. He says, I'm going to chase that bat away.
I protest. I tell him not to, the bat has to eat too!
He says, I don't want it to eat my fig.
I plead, But you weren't going to eat it either!
(Silence. I am trapped, powerless, on the toilet seat.)
Bear comes back in, satisfied. He tells me that there are other fig trees in the neighbourhood and that the bat can go and eat from them.
...
Well that was half an hour ago and Bear has gone to bed now. Which is just as well, because I have just heard another flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-CRASH!
:D