At the top end of the garden, I looked down and exclaimed, “Oh no!”

My sister Agnes, who was walking a few steps behind me, questioned, “What’s wrong?” 

Feeling exasperated, I sputtered, “Nibbles, nibbles, everywhere I look, I see nibbles taken out of plants that aren’t surrounded by a fence!”

Familiar with my Elmer Fudd-like hatred for rabbits, my sister glanced around at my mostly barren garden, she asked, “What did those naughty rabbits even find to eat?

 Pointing to a row of fresh, green onions tops directly in front of us, I explained, “Last fall I didn’t bother taking in the onions because they were too small. The coldest temperatures of this mild winter didn’t kill them. During this past month, as the weather became warmer, I noticed that they started to grow again. Since I don’t plan to till my garden for another month, I thought I’d let them grow. I like the idea that maybe they could possibly give me an early, worthwhile onion harvest.”

Leaning down to make a closer inspection of the freshly chewed bulb tops, Agnes commented, “Wow, I didn’t think rabbits would bother onions, but they clearly chewed on several.”

Sighing, I suggested, “Let’s finish our walk. There’s nothing I can do about the rabbits right now.”

My favorite thing to do in April is taking what I like to call ‘bud-check walks’. So, when Agnes arrived for a visit, I invited her to join me. Bud-check walks require close inspections of all flowerbeds, shrubs, trees, and bushes. Early in the spring it is impossible to see if life has returned when looking from a window. But close-up, I get to see the first green sprouts pushing up from under wood chip mulch, and the tiny swelling of tightly furled leaves on the tips of trees and bushes. Some plants send up life at the first hint of spring, while others wait to make sure spring has really sprung.

Two winters ago, the rabbits in my yard spent the winter nibbling away all chances of my having any blueberries. So now my five blueberry bushes have a fence around them, too. Then, last winter, rabbits completely girdled the fire bushes below my office window. I expected them to all die. Much to my surprise, although I had to cut off several lifeless branches, the shrubs survived. To prevent that from happening again, last fall I put up fencing to keep rabbits from being able to sit near their trunks where they can nibble the bushes to death.

Agnes and I inspected the small buds forming on a yellow currant bush. I complained, “I feel like I need to put fences around everything in my yard. The rabbits decimated a few tea rosebushes in the garden the same year they ate the blueberries. There’s a limit to how many fences I can put up.”

The warm, velvety spring air temporarily caused me to forget my gluttonous, long-eared enemies. Newly awakened spring peepers started up a tinkling, bell-like chorus along the nearby river. From the top of a pine tree, a robin clucked triumphantly over the rich bounty of worms he was finding. Its mate warbled a plaintive answer, perhaps hoping that he would share the abundance with her.

Agnes suggested, “Now that spring is here, the rabbits will have more things to eat in the wild and will leave things alone in your yard.”

Smiling sadly, I shook my head and pointed out, “Things in my garden taste better than what grows in the wild. Last summer, the rabbits waited until the beets in the garden were nicely up and then in one night mowed them all down. I need to set up a live trap.”

My sister asked, “Didn’t you say racoons did damage to your garden a few years ago? Maybe it wasn’t a rabbit who chewed on the onions.”

Giggling, I answered, “Whatever I catch in the live trap, I’ll sniff its breath to see if it was the one who was nibbling the onion tops!”