The next day, the boys came to play again. They arrived the same way, and left in the same manner. No problem. Not my woods, and they're not doing any harm.
But I could guess what was eventually going to happen, and you can too.
The air soft gun battle soon spilled over onto our lot. Not very far into our lot, just a few yards, and it wasn't a big deal. The back end of our lot is woodsy: a few scattered trees, no grass, and a six foot high brush pile with a ramp to the top made from wood chips that I delivered by wheelbarrow over several months last year.
It didn't take long for those boys to discover the joys and triumphs of playing king of the brush pile. Once they discovered it, it immediately became the center of every game.
And you can probably guess what happened next.
No, they didn't light it on fire, although I wouldn't mind much if they had.
They got real comfortable in our yard. And bored with the long way home so they started using the driveway and walking past the garage and screen porch to get to the battleground.
Next thing, boys and guns are flowing down toward the house, where the boys discover the creek and our bridge over the creek, and the other bridge over the creek that goes right to the deck and along the house. And they couldn't have been more carefree if they'd been romping around Disneyland.
At this point I felt it was time to have a chat. I told them that it would have been nice if they'd knocked on the door and asked if they could play in the woods and cut up our driveway and through the yard (not to mention walking everywhere else). One guy was apologetic and courteous, but the others didn't have much to say. The courteous kid showed me how his gun worked, and when I asked, he let me take a couple shots. I told them to be careful, to use the driveway, and to stay WAY OUT BACK.
They didn't. Every day they'd end up hanging out near the house, playing in the creek, climbing up this leaning tree, and loitering on the far bridge.
What's more, the other day, two of them terrorized a squirrel along the driveway with their little plastic pellets. The squirrel was at the base of a small tree and the boys fired at it until it climbed as high as it could go, which was only about 30 feet. So, it leapt to the ground to escape. Thirty feet! I was a hundred feet away in the house and could hear the squirrel thump on the ground as it landed. It seemed to be okay and got away, and I realize it's just a squirrel, and that these are boys, but come on. Terrorize wildlife at your own house.
Well today I'd had enough. They were getting loud and obnoxious, playing in the creek and all over the bridge. I wanted them to have fun, but I also wanted them to be considerate of our privacy, and our property.
So what pushed my red button today was when one kid took a 2-inch tree next to the bridge, a tree I specifically left in that place for aesthetics (not that he would have know this), bent it over, and positioned himself to stand on it. His intention clearly was to break it off. I worked many many months clearing the lot and deciding--very methodically--which trees to keep and which to cut.
So I threw open a window and yelled, "GET OFF THAT TREE, BOY!" And then, "WHY DON'T YOU GUYS CLEAR OUT OF HERE FOR A WHILE. YOU'RE GETTING A LITTLE TOO COMFORTABLE AROUND HERE!"
I felt kind of bad afterwards, but I was red hot. That destructive brat had no regard for our property, even if it was a just little tree in the "woods."
And what's more, these boys were over here three different times Saturday--several hours the third time and right up until dark. And then again Sunday morning, and Sunday afternoon until after dinner time. It was getting out of hand. I didn't think they would come around so often when I gave them the OK to use the back of the yard.
I have a feeling they won't be back for a while.
