T. C. Boyle

(...) he'd stood up at the bimonthly meeting of the property owners' association to say somrthing (...). They wouldn't even listen. Coyotes, gophers, yellow jackets, rattlesnakes even - they were a pain in the ass, sure, but nature was the least of their problems. It was humans they were worried about. The Salvadorans, the Mexicans, the blacks, the gangbangers and taggers and carjackers they read about in the Metro section over their bran toast and coffee. That's why they'd abandoned the flatlands of the Valley and the hills of the Westside to ive up here, outside the city limits, in the midst of all this scenic splendor.