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| Here in the most perfect late middle of summer, with the sun high and bright among few clouds, I have taken the occasion to lie out on a blanket in the yard, as the woodland folk peek and gambol round about. I have been nurturing a friendly rapport with the woodchuck and young rabbit who inhabit this place, so they are wary but not daunted, and engage charmingly in peek-a-boo as I snap their photos. The game today is crossing the yard undetected, from their home in the hedge to the peach tree on the other side. |
| Woodchuck peeks out. He is reconnoiterring. I have invaded his space, but perhaps I do not want his peaches badly enough to engage in combat. |
| Young rabbit is nonchalant, nibbling at the edges of the lawn a few feet from the hedge, pretending I am not there. |
| Woodchuck ventures out onto the lawn. I am obviously a loafer who does not eat woodchucks or peaches. |
| Peach tree achieved! Young rabbit peeks out as I snap his picture. Look at all those peaches. Hee hee hee. |
| Uh oh... here comes trouble! Woodchuck lumbers out of the undergrowth. "Those are my peaches," he grumbles. Young rabbit feels his size. |
| Woodchuck gains the day. "Take as many pictures as you like, lady. These peaches are for me." I do not want any of his goldang peaches (ahem). |
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