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June 15th 2010    Tim Candler

    A dastardly gathering of drop and roll Colorado grubs in the south end of the potato bed.  Along the fence, amongst Yukon Gold.  And again if soon there is no more rain, and if soon daytime highs do not retreat from the nineties, then my heart grows tired.   As well there are Squash Bug in the Black Beauty, and something with large eyes, an exoskeleton and walking shoes deep in the Oriental cucumber which I could reach for by trampling a Baby Bell.

     One day something will bite me.  Probably a creature unknown to the scientific world but  familiar to the imagination of those of us who spend portions of our day short sighted and hunched.   The attack will occur around eleven thirty in the morning, just as the day reaches that zenith best articulated by the expression: "one more minute and I have to find shade."

   The creature unknown to science owns a cloaking device and can transmit telepathic signals that cause the unsuspecting to believe in that limbo where ghosts spend their time.  When no human is looking it parades before all other insects so as to show off its destructive ability.  Then when I blunder into the garden, it disappears leaving only nervous acceptance of its existence and a sense of being watched.   And I think it must be quite big because sometimes I can hear it rustling the long leaves as it watches me.

    On the one hand, the loss of a single Baby Bell from its party of nine might seem like a necessary sacrifice.  On the other hand the holes this unknown creature can cut suggest mandibles that could remove a finger.

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