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Joros‍
Maybe they arrived here as youngsters, stowed in a shipping container. Maybe they were hidden in a box and trucked into the Georgia foothills in pitch blackness. Maybe there were only a couple of them, but more likely there were hundreds. Maybe some of them didn’t survive. Maybe the survivors spun out a balloon that drifted them away, away, though, no doubt, somehow, they found each other again. In this new land they thrived, and they multiplied, and they spread rapidly into new territory. One day, probably in late summer or early autumn, a human discovered them and sounded an environmental alarm. Today they are hunted and killed on sight. But it is too late; there are too many; they have migrated to the Jocassee Gorges and here they will remain. ~K