Friday, October 30, 2015

The Garden Shed of Doom

It may be Halloween, but I don't believe there are any ghosts or goblins lurking about in my garden, although a person might possibly be startled by Gneville. He's only a garden gnome, although in the dark I suppose he could be mistaken for a goblin, or one of the other malevolent denizens of the underworld, but then he doesn't have an evil grin. It's more of a silly smirk, making him about as scary as Barney the Dinosaur in a field of daisies.

As for ghosts, plenty of slugs and earwigs have met their end in my garden, in most cases rather suddenly. I suppose if they had souls and were inclined to do a little haunting, they'd be back to settle the score, but after a good frost, I've never seen a live one, let alone an apparition.

There are, however, plenty of folk who've believed all along that slugs are creatures from the dark side, and would rather think they don't exist in this world. So often, I hear complaints from daytime gardeners of holes appearing mysteriously in the leaves of plants, whole leaves missing, even complete vegetable gardens disappearing overnight. Trails of ectoplasm criss-cross flowerbeds supporting their belief that it must be some ghostly monster.

I've never been a believer in ghosts or monsters from the other side — common, or garden, but it's easy enough to be spooked in a garden after dark. There are always creepy things happening during the night — strange sounds, slitherings, clinging spider webs, and of course, raspberry canes that grope and grasp and won't let go. But these things don't frighten me.

I will admit, however, to being startled one night by a pair of eyes glaring at me from the back corner of the shed — probably just a cat or a rabbit I said to myself as I pitched the trowel and slammed the door shut behind me. For months, I avoided the shed after dark.

If you have reason to go into a garden shed at night, cough loudly, rattle the handle, and then kick the door before entering — and carry a your biggest hoe. And keep an eye on garden gnomes. Don't let the silly smirks fool you.

1 comment:

Brenda Szasz said...

I have chosen my own distinctive whistle to use when walking into the back yard, especially at night, to give everyone a "heads-up" that their friend is coming through