The black berry canes encroach from the beneath the alder grove, creeping across my driveway. They seek to block my access to my house and takeover the place by persistent pressure, making it all a big briar patch.
I survey the battlefield. The calvary will arrive next week, the calvary being brother-in-law Bob and his tractor and his efficiently cutting brush hog implement.
I walk up my country driveway, a 0.15 mile gravel lane, and video as I approach the "Y", the place where my drive branches; to the left is the house, to the right is the back 40. Mr. Redtail, the circling hawk vociferously cries for his mate. They nest in the fir tree halfway toward the house.
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