Winter is decidedly joyful this year.  After 12 ½ years battling deer in my garden, and watching hundreds of dreams literally nipped in the bud, we finally installed a deer fence. From the moment the last gate was set, I’ve begun to dream of possibilities again as I fall asleep at night.

 

cats and dogs in a rural setting along a fence line

Two cats and three dogs following along as we walk the new fence line. (Photo credit: Emma Willburn)

Big dreams involve things like yew hedging, or cage-free hydrangea in garden beds. Little dreams are as simple as Ammi majus running randomly through perennial pockets in summer, or self-seeded hosta keeping down the stilt grass in a bed I don’t have time to weed.

Caged juniper in garden bed.

Nothing like a pitiful caged juniper to really enhance the beauty around here (this one got stripped one week after going in the garden). I eventually took out the Philadelphus (to the right) in despair.

Dreams and deer don’t mix

Dreaming hasn’t been happening for some time – which is inconvenient when you’re a garden writer, for it’s in the experimenting and the doing that the best writing originates. Apart from fevered periods of excitement brought on by conferences and symposia that temporarily made me forget about my circumstances, the bloom has been off the rose for some time. I’ve focused on hardscaping instead.

What are were my circumstances?  We’ve had a problem since we arrived, but we shifted into “petting zoo” territory about six years ago. Rampant development in my county means that deer pressure has grown beyond our ability to solve it with a rifle. 

In addition, I’m not 30 anymore. I’m not even 50 anymore. And I manage a large property with less than eighty hours a year of hired help. That means that every hole dug and every tree caged and every perennial selected, prayed over, and sprayed, represents a hell of a lot of effort – mostly mine. When that effort is negated in the space of 24 hours – over and over again – it’s hard to keep gardening.

deer damage to cut flowers

So much for the cut flower bed.

What’s truly ‘deer proof’?

Even the most practical gardener will soon find that a plant that is touted as “deer proof” in a book or online, may not be deer proof for you. In addition, deer populations change, and a plant left untouched for years, can suddenly appear on the menu. Faced with an ever-contracting palette, I found myself stagnating – choosing plants that made me yawn, and weren’t my first, second or even third choice.

After years of this you realize you’re no longer planting for the joy of it. You’re playing defense and it’s boring as hell.

So why do it?

That’s the question I asked myself last winter when the deer broke the latch on a small enclosure that protects my vegetables and a few choice things, and they ate those few choice things. Choice, slow-growing things. And I thought, “I seriously can’t do this anymore.”

 

Variegated Soloman's Seal in a spring garden.

Variegated Soloman’s seal has been deer resistant for years at Oldmeadow, and thus I grow a lot of it. But it’s eaten to the ground in a friend’s garden. This year, it started to show signs of nibbling.

 

Amsonia and Spirea in a spring garden

There’s only so much amsonia and spirea a gardener can plant.

Light in the darkness

And then I met Sandy Schaller. Sandy is a horticulturist at Wave Hill Garden in New York, and has battled deer on her own property for 20 years. 

She and her husband had put in a deer fence the year before, and the excitement and pure joy radiating out of her eyes as she related the change in her garden was intoxicating.

Sandy’s story hit me at probably my lowest and most receptive point. Plant friends had talked to me about deer fences before, but I’d dismissed the idea as expensive and/or impossible to implement well. The idea didn’t excite my husband, who was more excited about replacing our fourteen-year-old car, or our 1970’s-era bathroom, than he was by sinking that money into deer barriers (though he had grown tired of hearing the profanity coming from the garden in the early morning).

Rohdea in the autumn

Rohdea japonica is still safe in my garden, but for how long?

I continued to research and ended up writing a piece for the Wall Street Journal on this garden improvement that often underpins all others.  My husband still wasn’t convinced.

“I get it now.”

It was fellow GardenRanter Anne Wareham and husband Charles Hawes who helped him change his mind.  After an autumn vacation to England to visit friends, we snuck across the Welsh border to visit them in their garden, The Veddw.  Anne and Charles garden in somewhat similar circumstances to us, in that they are tucked into a valley surrounded by woodland – and all the creatures of that woodland. In recent years, deer have become a serious problem.

Anne Wareham and Marianne Willburn

Anne and me walking The Veddw. Are we talking about deer? Possibly — it’s always my first excuse as to why I can’t do gorgeous things.

My husband had never visited an amateur garden on that level before (The Veddw was featured by the RHS in 2025 as one of the UK’s top 100 gardens). He was able to see not only what dreams can be achieved without deer to dash them; but could talk to Charles at leisure about gates and fences and barriers – both professional and slap-dash. Over drinks and dinners, he listened to the story of this 40-year garden made by two ordinary people, and was inspired by it.  The morning we got back on the road he turned to me and said, “I get it now.  This is what you do. Let’s do it.”

Discussing design, strategy and other wonderful things over dinner in Chepstow with Anne and Charles.

Is it worth it?

Deer fences aren’t for everyone.  There are HOAs to consider and views to preserve and monies to save, and a whole host of things that co-host Leslie Harris and I talked about on a recent deer-focused episode of The Garden Mixer; but I do know that my plant friends who have installed one do not regret it – they only regret waiting as long as they did. 

prunus mume deer damage

This Prunus mume was lucky — most small trees are snapped in half by this kind of attention.

For us, it is not a question of regret – the resources simply weren’t available 12 years ago to put towards a fence, and it is a sizeable investment.  But it’s sobering to take a walk around the property and list out the big-ticket items like trees and shrubs that have been killed, maimed or stunted over the years. Those were investments too.

Fencing doesn’t erase all challenges. I’ll still be battling the voles and squirrels and rabbits that outrun my terriers – and there’s always disease and weather to contend with. I’m still one gardener on a large property after all.

But witnessing a traffic jam of deer form on the other side of the fence (where their trail once led down to what’s left of my azaleas) was a beautiful sight this morning.  I may even learn to enjoy watching them again. – MW