I went out hunting yesterday morning, armed with a flashlight and a keen eye, aiming for annihilation. I generally don't resort to depredation, but when certain critters threaten to emaciate the food crops I rely on, it's time to bring out the big guns.
I crept between the sprigs of Russian sage, sunflowers, and yarrow training the torch on munched leaves and strung scat. My prey is known for its camouflage and was difficult to spot in the thick jungle where I searched. I parted the stems to peer between the vegetation, but to no avail. The porking-out pest eluded me.
I continued my quest prodding and poking around, looking above its leavings for other signs and evidence of current chomping. I slide my fingers along the stalks where I have found it clinging and raring its horned head at my disturbance of its feasting in years past. But I could not find hide nor hair of the beast I'd been hunting.
Just as I turned to head back to the house, I found the culprit scurrying around to the backside of a shoot to avoid detection. Its legs hugged the stem and it scuttled around when I attempted to apprehend this thing I thought was another.
I won't speak of the weapon used to bring about the grasshopper's demise. We'll just say he won't be leaving anymore necklaced night soil hung around the trunks of my tomatoes. As for the horn worms I had set out to finish off, beware!
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