The fight against the dratted mole continues. What could be more depressing than a depression in your lawn? A molehill next to it!
Drilling for a borehole next door sent said mole scurrying to quieter tunnels, and as I live on one of the least rocky plots in Kommetjie, I believe, this is the ideal place for myriad deep, dark and dank tunnelling. Forty years ago, the vacant plot was used by the owner as a potato field - he was a farmer on the Cape Flats - and so all the round boulders just under the surface were probably dug out and taken back to the farm to build a wall, leaving a mole's paradise in Kommetjie.
A while back, the mole tunnelled out in another area of the garden, and I fell through the surface layer up to my knees, such was the magnitude of the excavation. A similar situation is now unfolding under the lawn, as sinkholes are dotting the area and only a thin layer of grass and roots is covering them. It won't be long before I am up to my knees again.
It doesn't help that Cleo is digging from the top as well, sniffing along the tunnel lines as she senses the mole's movements, and the gardener has dug out spadefuls to set the trap. This mole is far too clever to be caught in a trap. He just kicks sand over it and digs another tunnel. In the old days, before the drought, I would blast water down the hole and wash it away, but we can't do that now. I am seriously considering carbon monoxide, but the lawn is too far away for a pipe to reach from the garage.
Maybe I should just plant trees in the holes?
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