Again and again it goes; life to death and back to life again. Corn is planted , ripens and dies, is harvested to feed. Its skeleton falls to earth to rejuvenate the soil. Trent looked at the acreage his father left to him. How could he manage all this land? And could he do it like his Dad wanted him to? He surveyed the landscape. He breathed deeply; the smell of the earth bequeathed to him would launch his mind into future possibilities.

This land meant more to him than corn. Land grows all types of things. He thought, “What is the biggest cash crop in America?” Weed! But how do I keep away the people that steal?

Like corn dies so do poachers of my crop. They are an infestation. Like Dad sprayed for weevils, I will have a plan for pest control. Boobie traps, cameras, and cunning will always be my allies. Pest are pest.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s