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sure, slow. But even slow began to appeal to me.

I figured out, finally, that the real solution wasn't to drown them but to share my bounty. Oh, I'd reconstruct the garden to make it more difficult to enter, but I would not poison or drown or squash another slug. Yes, they would eat some of my food, but unless you're a mad scientist ready to poison yourself and your neighbors in order to protect every last gram of vegetable matter, writing off a bit of your planting is just another cost of doing business.

Likewise, I stopped netting my peach tree the very day I found a tiny little bird entangled in the plastic webbing I'd thrown over the branches. Not only was the netting ugly and unnatural, but it had just killed one of God's little creatures, who was just being a bird. Yes, I'd lose some peaches to squirrels and birds, but I already lost some of them to the neighborhood kids brave enough to climb my six-foot fence, and I certainly wasn't going to do anything to harm them.

So, yeah, I might be a bit far gone on this, but it is what my garden taught me. I don't "own" the soil or the plants. I just tend them on behalf of the ecosystem, and get paid back with good things to eat for my trouble. Does that give me license to kill anything that licks its chops in anticipation of a raid on my little happyland? Nope. Does it mean I won't kill anything ever again? Nope; mosquitoes and black flies and rats must continue to beware the hairy ape who governs my backyard.

But here's the thing: Gardens are all about life. The more I kill something in order to protect that garden, the more I destroy the very idea I set out to embrace. So I plant marigolds to ward off insects, and flower attractants elsewhere in the yard as decoys. And I put up little barriers and scarecrows and other passive defenses. And I might consider trapping gophers or rabbits. But no longer will I kill for my food, when killing is simply way out of proportion to the problem.

Now, besides my garden, I've got an entire zoology of wonderment around me. It's alive, and I share my bounty and we both make out. And that makes me feel good.

Learn more about this author, Ron Legro.
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