Mamacita says: We used to live out in the country in a big house we hired Amish workers to build. We raised our children there, and loved the house and the property. In back of the house was a lovely big woods, large old trees, and a creek full of geodes.
We built a fire ring back there for our kids and their friends, and they often camped in the woods. HOWEVER. We had to put a stop to the camping because of the poachers and trespassers. Apparently, “woods” means “hunting” to a lot of people, and they do not understand what “private property,” “posted,” and “trespassing” mean.
We tore down several deer stands, and shouted these morons out of our woods so. many. times. Usually the poachers ran away when we approached, but sometimes they stood their ground and insisted that where there were woods, there was implied permission to hunt.
We encouraged the deer – set out salt blocks, etc, for them. Sometimes there were over a dozen deer resting on our basketball court. They were so bold with us, they didn’t even run away when we walked to our car and opened the doors. We were often awakened by the sound of dozens of deer running across our yard to the cornfield across the road.
I hated every hunter who trespassed on our land. I would have gladly seen all of them behind bars.
Was I too harsh? I think not. Poachers and trespassers are scum. (They also stole all our mushrooms and strawberries every spring.) What’s the deal with these kinds of people? They are thieves. Criminals. Is there a defense? I don’t think so. (Still holding a grudge.) (We also had problems with people stealing entire trees – a so-called preacher, in fact.)
I love people, but some people defy being loved. I suppose those people need love the most, but holy cow. So unlovable. Nasty pieces of work, they are. I hope the people who now live in our house don’t have these problems, but I’d bet money, if I had any, that they do. Sigh. Poachers and trespassers. . . . bah.