The backyard is under attack. Two titans face off in a challenge: man against nature, nature the stronger, more willful, experienced; man, ever cunning, inventive and cruel.
By land, sea and air, troops fly into battle; black wings directing hits at my head. Protecting their bounty, the flowers and leaves I have planted—but pretty to me, is forage for them. The underground troops tunnel their way, leaving destruction in uprooted plants disconnected from soil, soon will wither and dry.
By moonlight, the elite of the stealthy arrives, clad in masks and fur coats to ravage the land. By sunlight, the boys in grey spring into action, chattering, leaping through trees, falling like paratroopers down on the feeders.
The big guns come out at dawn and at dusk, four-footed silent hooves bring munchers of hedges. Once shapely and comely by jiggering blade, now holey, misshapen and bare.
Which is important, my world or theirs? Which has the right to the land? They are inheritors; I was once one of them. I must learn from their tactics, live by their needs, compromise, sit down and cry.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology