We came to know their routines on their "farms" on our public lands.  So we learned their sky patrol.  And this we carefully and incrementally led just a little bit farther, a little bit farther over the boundary lines.  Some days were painfully slow in progress.  Hours and hours spent in the same position.  Hours and hours in the mountain garden spot, mirroring their positions.  Hand-drawn maps were coming in from all sides.  All sides of where we hated to admit it, but they'd trapped us.

     "Our commanders need our support right now, so you can check the attitude at the door, or you can fend for yourself." A military mom was brave in mom-ing a camp of respiters and on-holds for active duty.  Sometimes us "communicators" chose to stay so we could all sleep at the same time, and sometimes we kept on the trek to a signal post.  There was truth except in scramble.