In late January I spoke of trees along the banks of one of the major local creeks.  More specifically, I showed you some of the trees so near the water’s edge that they have slowly grown to lean over the water, some of them reaching to the other side.  I said in relation to the photos in that post:

Erosion has taken from them the space that once existed between their lives and the flow’s continuous march toward the lake.  This process has left many ancient souls now precariously dangled over the water, trunks leaning toward impending doom.  While their roots undoubtedly have stretched far away from the creek with hope of maintaining a strong grasp on solid ground, it looks to me that they can never truly win the battle.  Eventually the waters will take from them the very soil upon which they stand.

I can now report one of the trees in that first image has finally succumbed to to the constant tearing at its roots by the creek.  With all the flooding that has taken place here recently, it was only a matter of time.

As is obvious, the tree now rests across the creek from bank to bank, its once proud branches now haphazard projectiles both above and below the water’s surface.  The bulk of the arboreal spirit blocks the flow of water and captures everything journeying toward the lake.  In fact, that photo demonstrates some litter and a great deal of blossom detritus held frozen in time.

The tree had already donned an impressive amount of its spring verdancy.  Lush greenery adorned its fallen form, most of it still lively in appearance and color.  But instead of capturing sunlight and offering cover to local wildlife, it’s left capturing whatever debris floats down the creek and offering cover only for those capable of utilizing this new and temporary bridge.

A great rending of the earth has taken place where its roots once held strong, once tightly grasped beneath the surface whatever they could find to leverage against the ravages of the creek’s unending torrent.  I found it captivating to see how far away from the hole the ground had been broken.  Even as the most damage occurred directly beneath the tree’s base, its increasingly tenuous position had just the effect I pondered originally: its roots stretched far and wide away from the leaning tree and toward solid ground.  But when the life ended, those roots served no purpose other than to pull and tear at the planet’s flesh, even at great distances from where the final incision would be made.

Standing near the wound reveals a painful vision of broken bones once meant to supply the old soul with nourishment and fluids from the ground.  Now, instead of surreptitiously snaking about the soil hidden from sight, they protrude into the air and across a great chasm like so many broken bones.  One could not possibly ignore use of the broken limb metaphor to describe them, and one would not be wrong in doing so.

A skin of grass stretched taught over sinewy flesh made of dirt wrapped within their hold the ligneous skeleton of feet buried with inscrutable silence and ageless patience.  That skeleton, finding itself progressively unable to hold its body upright, now proffers evidence of the predator time.

I weep for the loss of this god amongst men.  To see an ancient being so vehemently thrown down grain by grain, drop by drop…

What do you see in this picture?

The larger version reveals a great deal more, of course, but perhaps you need a different view.  How about this one?

Again, the larger version shows details hidden in this reduced image, yet I think I’ve made myself clear.

Ants.  The enemy of all that is good and wholesome, the devil incarnate, that which is evil and vile, and mortal enemies of my very life.

What are they doing, you ask?  Let me tell you.

They’re chowing down on the cat food I leave outside each day for the various neighborhood cats.  That’s right, poppets.  These wingless wasps are spitting in my eye with their invasion of my space.  They’re laughing at me.  Can’t you hear them?

A touch of Sevin dust will undoubtedly mire them in death’s throws whilst protecting the kitty kibble I make available each day.  Building a protective barrier from the toxin rests high on my list of things to do—when it stops raining so much, I mean.

Until then, the cats have to fend for themselves when it comes to competing for this food.

But something else not shown in these photos helped me realize the horrible crap I’ve been feeding to The Kids.

Yes, I know it’s prescription cat food.  I assure you, the cost I pay for it reminds me of that fact each and every time I have to refill the cupboards.

Yet I still know it’s crap and it’s very much time to come up with a different answer to their dietary needs.

What you don’t see in the photo is precisely what I showed you a short while ago: isopods!

I’ve watched with a careful eye precisely what the roly-polies are doing in the midst of the ant invasion.  It’s not the ants they’re attracted to.

It’s the cat food!

And let me tell you why that’s so disheartening, so disgusting, and so revealing as to be the final nail in the coffin of commercial cat food… at least when it comes to The Kids.

Pill bugs, as they’re known, are detritivores.  What are detritivores?

Just as carnivores are meat eaters and herbivores are plant eaters and omnivores eat everything in sight, detritivores eat detritus.  That is to say, they eat decaying plant or animal material.

As a whole, detritivores are useful.  They aid in breaking down a great deal of biological material that would otherwise stay around far longer than we’d appreciate.

When it comes to cat food, however, the apparent interest of isopods shines a light on something that is troubling insomuch as it concerns felines.  Who are predators.  Carnivores.

Isopods feed almost entirely on dead or dying plant matter.

So tell me again why they find cat food so interesting?  Food intended to satiate the dietary needs and hunger of meat-eating cats?

Huh?  Can anyone tell me?

I mean, I’ve watched the little wood lice as they munch away on food intended for cats.

Am I the only one who finds it troubling that crustaceans who survive on decaying vegetation want to consume food meant for carnivores?  And that they congregate in large numbers to do just that?

I’m sorry.  Prescription food or not, I’m offended to discover this little secret of commercial cat food.  It’s garbage, something not meant for felines.

So I’m now on a serious quest to resolve this issue by finding a new food for The Kids that is organic, healthy, full of the meat and related substances they require, and still able to address the medical issue the current food is intended to fix.

Meanwhile, I’m utterly disgusted by this discovery.  It reveals a great deal about what we feed our animals.  It shows me I’m giving The Kids something they shouldn’t be eating.

As for the ants… Rest assured they’ll get theirs.  Soon.

[I’m not sure what species of ant you see in these pictures; I wish I knew, but there are so many different kinds and sizes around here, not to mention in general, that it’s rather difficult for me to properly name the interlopers; at least for now…]