William and I both grew up in homes surrounded by forest. We are well acquainted with the darkness that descends come nightfall. We are familiar with nightly noises~ owls, foxes, coyotes. William even spent his childhood as a boy scout, and the concept of sleeping outside in the middle of the woods is certainly not foreign to him.
The first night William and I camped on our property in the Land of the Laurels brought our predator and prey instincts to a very different level.
We were the intruders. Just the two of us. Him. And me. And our four feet, two voices, and very presence, was of much curiosity to the land we occupied for the night.
We decided to place our tent directly under the giant American Beech tree. Its wide, sun hungry branches provided a decent cover. Plus, it is just a beautiful tree. But the ants…the ants were very interested in us and our tent. And it didn’t matter whether we put our tent under the Beech tree, or under the Chestnut Oak…the ants were everywhere. I’ve decided that our property may very well be just one giant ant hill.