Started making the move to a new plot today, across from my current plot. Larger, long abandoned, covered in tall grass and rotting pallets. The scythe was ready.
Two minutes into the action a frog plops out of the overgrowth - I shoo it away to safety and return to my trance-like state of reaping. Before long, another, and then another. Tiny, small, large - I'm sure I've stumbled upon the matriarch. Is this Frogland? I've been searching for this kingdom since my childhood. Every frog in the allotment must be living on this plot. I tread carefully and bundle all of the snailey pallets into a new palace for my countrymen, already daydreaming of a pond in spring.
A little while later I'm turning clumps of sod. Another frog takes me by surprise as it leaps across the brown earth. But its guts are hanging out. I was horrified; I still am. I should have put it out of its misery but let it hop away. I'm sure it met the end of my scythe; didn't hear it coming. Maybe strimmers are better for the tall wilderness.