Excerpt: A Naturalist's Logbook

The dense cluster of narihira bamboo vibrated vigorously, swishing as the leaves shook.

"What are those birds up to now?" Jock thought, as he scanned the agitated culms, but he could discern nothing in the dense green tangle. Suddenly, the clump exploded. A sparrow burst from its shelter, followed by a sharp-shinned hawk. The small bird scooted through the fig tree and headed for Kelli's hedge. But the hawk caught up with it before it reached the safety of the priver.

"That hawk is eating well," Jock said to himself. "First a starling, and now a house sparrow."

Unlike his neighbor Kelli, who tried to chase off hawks, he never interfered with the workings of nature. But he did drive away cats, both domestic and feral, which haunted his garden in search of birds. He wished the cats would go after the rats who sometimes invaded his garden and ate his ripening fruit, especially the peaches and figs.

Jock loved his fig tree, even though it was very messy and the ugliest tree in his garden. Figs are not pretty trees, even in the warm growing regions they prefer, but this tree had survived a dozen cold winters in a most unsuitable clime, the maritime Pacific Northwest. It thrived despite the unsuitable weather and bore abundant fruit each summer.

He did not mind sharing his fruit with the Steller's jays, robins, and raccoons, but he drew a line when it came to squirrels and rats. Rats! One summer, three years ago, his garden had a major infestation of rats. The dratted rodents had taken over the birdhouses he set up for sparrows and wrens, and refused to be evicted. He drove them away and destroyed all of the bird houses, except for two ceramic ones under the front porch roof which were inaccessible to the scoundrels.

As for permanently getting rid of the rats---he had his means, and the rodents did not return when he had finished with them.