It’s that time of year again where the planets align such that alien fruits migrate to our silvery orb. I seemed to have slept through much of last year’s visitations, but orange scouts have already arrived in various sizes at our doorstep.  What is worse is that Ken and the game warden seem to be encouraging our outworldly guests.  Last week, a beacon was lit out front, a smiling welcome that surely can be seen from space.