Gunfire! I hear a vehicle drive into the meadow and stop. This is too close for comfort.
But yet I have to do what I have to do. I cook dinner as light fades. I am careful not to slam car doors. I keep my dogs quiet, and I stay as quiet as possible.
Three times my dogs bark and run to northern edge of our site, looking into the direction from which the vehicle sound came. Either it’s Border Patrol hunting someone. Or its the drug runners, hiding.
After a long time — an hour? — I hear the vehicle leave. Apparently neither Border Patrol nor drug runners had any interest in me, or at least not enough to approach. Whichever one it was, I’m pretty sure they knew I was here.