This is why you can't sit on the grass in Georgia

Ahhh, dusk. The low setting sun casts long shadows on the bushes and trees. The air is golden, and the birds flit from tree to tree as they prepare to roost for the night. All is well in my backyard. Peaceful. Bucolic.

Except...

A deadly enemy lurks beneath my feet. The newly mowed sweet grass hides an army busily creating for itself another fortress. Though the army is busy, any intrusion upon their empire building will immediately result in attack. The attack is pointed and the pain sure. It's the FIRE ANT, enemy of the bare feet. Enemy of the grass-sitting lounger under cool evening skies. Enemy of all that is good and kind.