Yesterday I walked through the garden. The path I usually take is no more. Wild boar dug it up the night before. They did not only dig up the path, their noses looked for all kinds of lovely foods also in the garden. What a force!
It reminds me of a meticulously maintained English lawn of a nasty owner. In one night, many years ago, the lawn was turned into a badly ploughed field. Since I disliked the owner so much, I secretly had fun for months.
Could this ravage be some kind of revenge …?
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