Orc-work

I caught four surveyors out along our property line last Friday.  They were not particularly friendly.  When I asked them what they were doing, they only replied that they were performing an "easement" for the Headrick Sign Company.  The result of their efforts is a corridor hacked through my neighbor's bamboo mini-forest and some neon-pink ribbon and paint along my back border.  Adding to my worries is new-found knowledge that the empty house behind ours is a foreclosure, making the eastern edge of our Angle -- the little strip of land "Across the Water" (our creek) -- vulnerable to forays of this kind.

Surveyors are never a good sign.  Their associated chain of events goes like this:  first, the survey; then, some kind of "legal" notification to the target, which means that the latter must inevitably get the hell out; then chainsaws remove the large old trees; then bulldozers push off any remaining brush, structures, and topsoil, leaving a gaping hole in the earth; the hole is filled by truckload after truckload of a sterile medium, usually red clay; sewer and gas lines are installed; the area is covered in concrete; and finally, the intended structure rears its head, the result of all this so-called economic "growth." 

It is not Growth.  It is Death. 

I fear the Shadow grows on my borders.

Wassail. -- C.