Hmmmmmm! I wonder who this hole belongs to? As I survey the new "blight" on our beautiful school garden, I am overcome with a sense of protection against this unwanted intruder. But then I remember a time last summer, with my foot in a cast, I spent a morning observing a similar varmit gleefully rearranging my home garden.
Gopher in the Garden Reflection
As I enoy some summer sun, I see a slight movement out of the corner of my eye. I freeze and patiently wait to see if the movement will be repeated, and I am rewarded with the sighting of a small gopher peeking out at me. He timidly, slowly, haltingly sticks his head out of his hole just far enough to snag a bit of grass or nibble on a weed. And then, POOF, he drops back into his hole, his perceived area of safety that he has built around himself. He is cautious, but persistent. As he judges it’s safe, he ventures out for longer bits of time and goes a little farther. Now he is bulldozing some of the dirt from his hole, “cleaning house”, expanding his domain, reaching out. Always on the lookout for hawks, humans and the curious dog. He’s only trying to survive in a hostile world, just like the rest of us.
How does this little brown, industrious, timid gopher exemplify the glory of God’s creation? What can we learn from him? To be persistent? To work hard? To reach out despite the dangers? To expand our horizons and connections? To always keep an eye out for danger? To bulldoze away the old stuff in our lives that is blocking our tunnel of growth and connection to the rest of the colony? To take life in little bites and not try and do it all at once? To stop and sniff the air, taste the plants, feel the warm , moist soil? Or maybe the key is just for ME to stop the world and watch another creature for a while, reaffirming our connection and interdependence through the grace of God. Okay, we’re connected and you are darn cute, but could you limit your actions to the field and not the lawn?
How do we live with the gophers of our world? The cute creatures who seem to have no other role but the destruction of our hard work and the placement of obstacles in our way over which to stumble and fall? How do we not only coexist, but live together in harmony? When the gopher is in the field, I deem him “harmless” even “cute” because I don’t care about the condition of the field. But when his mounds appear in the middle of my prize patch of lawn or I see one of my garden plants disappearing in jerky motions down a hole, he becomes a “nuisance”, even an “enemy”, and my emotions change from pleasant indifference to one of angry “this is war!”. Is it the gopher that has changed? No, it’s “my territory” that has changed, the value I place on the territory based on the amount of effort I have put into making it “perfect” and “pleasing” in my own view. I’m sure the gopher sees his mounds and holes as perfect and pleasing to him as well, and he gets equally perturbed when I level the mounds and fill in the holes. The difference is, he isn’t coming into my kitchen and placing a block of poison in my refrigerator to annihilate me and my family. Maybe the answer is to change the picture from “my” garden and “my” lawn to “our garden” and “our lawn”. Maybe I need to use more gopher baskets to protect plants and gopher wire to protect the lawn, and stop the use of the poison. Maybe I should put as much energy into learning to live with the gopher as I do in trying to get rid of them. Will they totally destroy the lawn? I don’t think so, but it will look different from what I have come to expect, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe we need to look at our world as becoming something different from what we have known and expect, and realize that we need to work together to create a new vision of what the world can and “should” be. One where the gophers and the gardeners respect each others work and place in creation. One where I give up some of my view of the “garden" so that they can live. A world where gopher holes and mounds can live peacefully side-by-side with lawns and gardens.
It will take a huge shift in my mind-set, but I'll keep working on it. In the mean time, I think I'll just watch this "cute" little guy a while longer.
Pat Garske, July 2009