Moles - maybe no more

I no longer feel benign towards the mole - they are solitary animals - that has inhabited our garden.   A mole, for the information of people in Australia and NZ is a tiny little creature, about the size of a large rat.  Moles are black and furry and blind of course.   I know that if you have read 'Wind in the Willows', you probably will say 'dear little creatures'.  But they are not, I can assure you, moles are a pests.   Well that is my view anyway.

The garden, on two levels, is riddled with mole tunnels.   They are even under the house, I am sure.  The tunnels cause the lawn to sink in places so that it looks like a rippled piece of green carpet.   This combined with the bare patches of soil where the hills once stood, make it look a very moth eaten carpet.  

And the mole hills  rise up on the lawn, to be flattened, only to find them rise up again the next day.   The hill is the excess soil from the tunnels.  It has to go somewhere of course.  Buy why my lawn.  

And often I dig a hole in the garden to plant a new shrub and find that there is nothing but air under the surface soil.   

Bloody moles.

I came back from Holland to find a mole hill against the wall of the house, in between the paving and the wall.   Forgot the lovely pebble stone effect.   Now it is a soil and pebble stone raised effect.

Scott flattened this mole hill, when he mowed the lawn.

 But there is hope, I think.  Because in one mole hill there is a small hole, just big enough to get a mole out.   And around the hole the soil is flattened.   I think a fox has eaten this mole.   Honestly, it was not me.   No spade, no standing out there in the dark waiting for a little head to appear.    No it must have been a fox.   I hope he enjoyed his meal.   Full of fat worms, from my garden.

 And now I wait, for the next mole to inhabit the garden.   It won't be long, I am sure.   My garden has lovely big fat worms, and lots of ready made tunnels.   A mole haven.