My Neighbors Dug A Two-Acre Lake On My Land While I Was Out Of State—Then Told Me Their Contractor Said…

So if you ask me now whether I would do it again, I can answer plainly.

I would rather never have had to.

But yes.

I would call Harold. I would call Ruth Ann. I would call Curtis. I would stand on that ridge at sunrise with the court order in my pocket and the weight of my grandfather’s voice in my chest. I would watch the bulldozer blade hit the bank. I would feel the ugly heaviness of it. I would know that nothing about it was easy.

And I would still say, “Do it.”

Because the lake was never just a lake.

It was a question.

And the land was waiting to see how I would answer.

THE END