They arrived at the beginning of the Lunar new year. I woke up one morning at the start of February to find a fresh, large mound of dark, damp earth had appeared on the lawn. Yep, we had a mole. I have no idea if it was just one or multiple moles but from a little look on the internet I suspect just the one.
I noticed myself registering this activity and their presence with no small degree of passivity. It was notable because I know that in the not-too-distant past, my heart may well have sank or perhaps I may have felt some irritation rising on seeing the mound. I would most certainly have seen a “pest” intruding into *my* space, creating damage and mess and oh, what a pain! And what should I *do*? (So funny, this human response to things happening - this feeling that we ought to do something, anything. We don’t seem so good at doing nothing.)
But nope, I didn’t seem to mind. I did wonder, why now? They hadn’t visited this lawn before in all the years we’ve lived here. What had attracted them here? I wondered where they had travelled from and from which direction. I wondered what had brought them to this spot. Apparently it’s common to see more mole activity in winter and spring when the ground is moist and their food source (worms and insects) are closer to the surface. Mole breeding season is in the spring so it’s also usual to see more activity then when they move into new areas, possibly looking for a mate.
We had family come to visit. I pointed out the fact we had a mole in the garden and the talk immediately turned to traps and catching it. But why?, I thought. What is mole doing that’s so bad? What is this garden for anyway? I’m hardly saving any lives here growing my garden...I thought flippantly. Or rather, if there are any lives I’m nurturing with this garden it includes my more-than-human kin who might also live or visit here. Do moles not count?
I pondered on this conditioned human reaction to seeing mole activity. What is it about them that makes us immediately reach for how to control, persecute or eliminate them as quickly as possible? Why are they so readily seen as “bad”. An animal that is immediately deemed a “pest”. Is it because they don’t give a shit that humans have a compulsive need for their lawns to be neat, flat, green and uniform? Is it because of their flagrant disregard of our artificial boundaries purposefully marked out by fences, hedges and walls? Perhaps it’s because they don’t behave in ways we deem polite, orderly, acceptable or decorous - unlike butterflies or birds. Instead they dig up our rules, our politeness, our order and our property.
Over the weeks many mounds of earth pop up. Some in the grass, some in the flowerbeds. We walk across the lawn and feel the ground sink beneath our feet in the places where surface tunnels have been dug. I begin to scoop up all the top soil from the mole hills and collect it all into one big pile. It will be useful for pots. Our soil is very sandy so it will be ideal for adding to potting compost.
For a period, every time we were out in the garden, our youngest dog - the one with a keen nose, adventurous spirit and curious mind - would always immediately know where the mole was. A few times she had a go at trying to dig it out. Very often the mole would be active soon after in the very spot where she had been. I was surprised at how often the mole seemed to be active during the day but moles are not nocturnal. They alternate hours of sleep and activity throughout the day and night.
One sunny, weekend morning the earth started moving and began to erupt around an area of surface tunnels where the dog had been intently sniffing just moments before. A squatted down to watch. I would have loved to have caught sight of them but moles rarely, if ever, surface. I was curious to hang out with them for a bit anyway and so I settled down to watch and listen. I guess you could say I was mole-ing.
Worms started shooting out of the ground, like snakes being charmed. They appeared to rise out of the soil before what I can only describe as scarpering away in a bid to escape from being the mole’s breakfast. Both the worms and the mole moved at surprising speed. I could clearly and loudly hear the rasping sounds of the mole underground in one spot (presumably at its head end) and the next second, earth was being pushed out about a foot away at the opposite end. For about fifteen minutes I was absorbed in this mole-ing.
And then, towards the end of April, the visible mole activity ended just as suddenly as it began. Mounds and surface tunnels stopped appearing. The places in the lawn where there had been molehills have grown over once again with grass. I didn’t lose any cultivated plants in my flowerbeds (as far as I’m aware). I have a pile of free-draining top soil for my use. They dug up the compacted earth (and goodness, is our lawn compacted) and aerated far more effortlessly than I ever could. They no doubt ate some worms and hopefully some chafer grubs and leatherjackets, helping to keep things in balance. I enjoyed a few glorious moments of mole-ing. And I didn’t waste a precious second fretting about “what to do about the mole in the garden”.
Go well mole. I hope you ate your fill and found yourself a mate.
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