The last day of 2011 turned out blissful in parts. Temperature soaring into the fifties (Fahrenheit). Sunshine and those sorts of things that should make a person smile. But Willow saplings have apparently been savaged, and it's possible those creatures with the smaller hoof and the big soft ears are venting a little deliberate spleen.
But I imagine them wandering through the dusk, looking for that certain flavor, because I know the feeling. It's ice cream. or chocolate. Sometimes I'd kill for an orange, a cigarette or a large pork chop. And the Artist was right as usual, I should have built a stockade before even considering planting Willow out there.