My husband's nose changed first—a nearly imperceptible spot-the-difference puzzle on a face I'd known for twenty-two years. Through our kitchen's bay windows, the morning sunlight highlighted his ... [+]
How does one god kill another? I contemplate this as I sit perched on my web, tucked beneath the shadow of the birdbath. He makes his rounds, scrupulously inspecting each row of tulips before moving onto the begonias. We're not all that different, he and I. We are both masters of life and death within this domain, but our conflicting interests have fixed us in opposition. Decades ago, he set the stage by manipulating the yard into a rectilinear projection of his own limited human imagination. He has fenced in a biological autocracy and has rejected the natural world that flourishes beyond the