“We’re only using the edge.”
“You opened my gate.”
“It was just for a moment.”
“You left it unlatched.”
Her face changed.
“So?”
I pointed toward the bulls in the distance.
“That’s why.”
For the first time, Karen looked uncertain.
Only briefly.
Then she shrugged.
“They’re far away.”
“They move.”
“Cole, honestly.”
“No.”
I walked to the gate.
Closed it.
Locked it.
Then looked at the parents.
“This is working livestock property. You’re welcome to look from the public road. You do not come through a livestock gate without permission.”
One father nodded immediately.
“Sorry.”
Karen did not.
She crossed her arms.
“Your signs are very aggressive.”
The sign beside us read:
PRIVATE PROPERTY
NO TRESPASSING
LIVESTOCK GRAZING
KEEP GATES CLOSED
“What part is aggressive?”
“The tone.”
“It’s a sign.”
“It creates an unfriendly atmosphere.”
“That’s intentional.”
After that, I upgraded the latches.
Heavy chain.
Better locks.
More signs.
I figured even Karen would understand.
I underestimated her.
A week before the first picnic, my neighbor Nate sent me screenshots from the private Willowbrook Facebook group.
Nate rented one of the houses at the edge of the development.
He drank beer with me sometimes and had the personality of a man who enjoyed watching other people’s drama as long as he was not standing in the center of it.
The first screenshot showed an event announcement.
WILLOWBROOK COMMUNITY MEADOW PICNIC.
Sunday.
Blankets.
Wine.
Family photos.
Live music.
Nature activities for children.
Location:
SCENIC MEADOW BESIDE THE FARM.
I stared at my phone.
Then another screenshot arrived.
One resident had commented:
Are we allowed on the property?
Karen replied:
Everything is arranged. The meadow is open space adjacent to Willowbrook and perfect for community recreation.
I read that sentence three times.
Everything is arranged.
