After the Storm - 2 Weeks later

Written a week ago (and abandoned) ...

A week after the storm has passed, it is looking a lot like Christmas around here. Christmas - with longer daylight hours, a warmer sun and spring not too far away.

We were fortunate my son dug us out with his skid steer. He made short work of what would have been more hours and muscle power than I can imagine. It was much of an issue as to where to put the snow, but the man-hours required to take on the job would have been monumental.

The resulting snow pile in the front yard brought back warm memories of my daycaring days, when one of my dads (whose winter work included snow clearing and removal) dumped a load of snow for the kid's entertainment. Making the most out of winter includes snow forts, snow hills, snow-people, frolicking in snow piles and simply enjoying the gifts of nature.

Rabbit tracks in the snow bring a smile to my heart every time ...

Two weeks later ...

I abandoned this post in lieu of living life quietly and letting Mother Nature deal with the excess snow.

I smiled when I spotted rabbit tracks on the mountain of snow in our front yard and was absolutely delighted when this happened:

 

Did you spot it? The rabbit hiding in plain sight??

Ahh ... the joys of rabbit-spotting. There is really nothing quite like it.

This winter station break was so much more enjoyable knowing it will all soon be gone.

But I'm glad for the moments it brought to us, right in our own front yard.

Love is in the Air

I don't rabbit-watch much these days. If a rabbit isn't in sight when I gaze out our living room window, I don't linger like I did once upon a lifetime ago.

We haven't had much snow this year, so I haven't sprinkled grain under our tree to supplement the rabbit's winter diet. Without the rabbit-food nor snow to track their movements, all has seemed pretty quiet.

Snow did finally arrive and with it, rabbit tracks and evidence of rabbits circling our tree checking out the food supply (yes, I did sprinkle the grain when the ground was covered in snow). Even at that, I have only managed a few rabbit sightings.

I am fairly certain the number of rabbits in our neighborhood hasn't changed. The difference is the time I spend devoted to rabbit watching. As I quickly walk away from the living room window, I remember the days/hours/time I used to spend at the window. 

"Hiding in plain sight" is what rabbits do best. I would stare into the winter scene and try to discern clumps of snow from rabbits. They look remarkably alike. I can lose sight of a rabbit if I take my eyes off the while they are on the move. Only to find them again, if they start moving.

While I miss those days spent at the living room window, I am frustrated at my new self. There is a hollow feeling inside of me that isn't patient enough to wait until a rabbit hops into view. Hopefulness and patience seem to be in short supply.

This morning, the moment I opened the blinds two rabbits were quickly making there way towards our yard. They had been startled by an early morning walker. They went off in two different directions as a strategy to keep at least one of them safe from danger. When the walker moved on and showed no sign of pursuit, they reunited very shortly thereafter, then hopped along down the street and out of sight.

The flurry of rabbit activity spurred me into glancing again. 

This time, there were three rabbits on the move. Once stopped, the lead rabbit hunkered down and faced the other two. Hmmm ... was I witnessing a female with two male suitors? When one of the (presumed) males confronted the "lead rabbit" (aka: female?), she hissed at him and he backed off. The second rabbit did not take advantage of the possibility of him being first choice. They soon hopped away, the female still leading the way, started burrowing into a small pile of snow, but abandoned that idea when her suitors were still interested. Soon enough, they hopped out of sight and I don't know the rest of their story.

My rabbit-tale coincided nicely with the date. Could it be that I was witnessing a little spring rabbit-love in the air?

Lots of rabbit tracks ... no rabbits in sight. 

But they aren't far.

A Little Moment of Awesome

I woke up before 4:30 this morning and stayed awake. These bonus hours are a gift to myself today.

It snowed yesterday. The first substantial snowfall of the year. And it was good.

I put in a solid day of bookkeeping work and though my brain was done thinking at the day's end, it was truly refreshing to go outside and shovel. It was the right amount of cold. Not too cold, not too warm ... it was the "Goldilocks Zone" of being just right.

Last year I didn't bother bringing out anything pertaining to Christmas. I wasn't all bah-humbug about it. I simply didn't see the point. No company was expected, nor did the idea of changing the scenery to reflect the season bring me joy. So I didn't decorate. The end.

This year, I invited friends over at a pre-seasonally-appropriate time. It wasn't too early to decorate and I had the incentive required for me to take on the task. 

I felt joyful and light as I brought out my box of memories. I was delighted while adorning my corner shelf with stories of Christmases past and pleased with the result.

It is January 6th and I am still enjoying the white light, memories and peaceful easy feeling my little Christmas corner brings to me. The decorations consist mainly of angels, snowmen, pine accents, sleighs and pinecones. I am now officially dubbing it my "Winter Wonderland" corner.

I feel serenity within me this morning. I'm just going to coast a little while on this feeling. 

Life is fleeting. 

Please savor those little moments when you find them.

P.S. There were rabbit tracks in the snow. Oh, how I have missed my rabbit friends. They can come out of hiding now, as their winter white coats will finally blend into the scenery so they can hide in plain sight again.

Little things...

Rabbit-Palooza!

I finally found out where the rabbits have gone. They have moved onto greener pastures north of where I've been searching. They were everywhere!

I spotted one. Then two more. Then four were together. I kept walking. I kept spotting groups of rabbits. A friendly walker noticed me snapping a picture. She told me she had spotted at least 25 rabbits in this park but there were more rabbits in other parks.

I stayed on the walking path and kept spotting rabbits. I ran out of path so I took the city sidewalk and circled around and took the southern most part of a different path in the same park. At one point, I saw ten rabbits in a group with a few more in the periphery. 

I was in rabbit heaven.

I stayed on the walking path and the rabbits thinned out. But they were still there. I walked to the end of the path and wasn't entirely sure of the fastest way home, as I ended up in a residential area full of crescents, coves, courts and roads to no where. 

Even as I neared home, I spotted three more rabbits in the school playground I used to frequent regularly with my daycare family.

The day feels blessed by rabbits. No woo-woo feelings about the why of it all. I simply took a new path.

Sometimes it is as simple as that. We need to go new places to see new sights, feel new feelings and remember there is more than one road that takes us back home.

I'm Here!

I have been walking through my days with a renewed sense of "being".

I have wanted to shout from the rooftops "I'm back!",

but the quieter I go, the more I realize "I'm here".

I'm just here.

In the moment.

Moments where I'm not feeling overwhelmed or anxious.

I'm present.

I'm here.

The stage of dormancy I retreated to has passed

for the moment.

I'm acting on my thoughts

and the rewards are plentiful.

I've been walking this week.

First thing in the morning is the only time I seem to make it work.

Nothing pulling at me, no coffee in my system.

Just early morning thoughts and the knowledge there is no better way to start a day.

I've spotted one or two rabbits each morning.

They have all seemed to be on high alert and on the run.

Except one.

When I stopped to take its picture, it had hunkered down into the "rock" pose.

I love how rabbits can hide in plain sight.

Most times, it is their movement that gives away their spot.

When one holds its ground and blends into its surroundings,

knowing full well a predator is in sight,

I wonder ...

Do you have babies close by?

Are you in protection mode?

Or do you simply sense I mean no harm?

I haven't got to know these rabbits,

so there I doubt there is any sense of familiarity.

I was simply fortunate enough to spot a rabbit hiding in full sight.

Hiding in full sight.

Kind of how I have been living the last long while.

I'm on the move.

For now.

I'm here.

And I'm enjoying the views.

 

It's Coming ...

It is April 1st

The days are getting longer

The temperatures are hovering around "zero"

And!!

The rabbits are starting to change color.

Spring is coming!

 

Down Another Rabbit Hole

I sat down to write yesterday but fell down a rabbit hole when I couldn't remember a small detail. I fell down a parallel rabbit hole last week. 

I'm writing about things I've written about before so I use the search bar at the top of my blog and start reading what I've written previously. I like what I find and start comparing my current self to my prior self and I'm coming up short. 

Where did all the words go? Why do I not have original thoughts any more? When did I stop finding little morsels of the day to write about? Who am I when I don't write? What am I going to do about this?

When you live a life on the rinse and repeat cycle over and over, without living a life outside the place you call home, the world becomes very small.

When you stop inviting people into your life and find solace in isolation instead of socialization, that small world becomes smaller.

When you tamp down your thoughts with Netflix marathons and potato chips, you start to disappear.

I have become smaller than I can remember being for a very long time. 

Step one was to restart the daily writing habit. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. Step two must take me one step outside the rinse and repeat cycle I'm living so I start noticing the world outside my head and think some new thoughts. 

Focus. One word at a time. One day at a time. One forward step at a time ...

Rabbit holes in the snow - even the rabbits are going no where ...

but that is the intent.

They are burrowing in the snow to find shelter from the weather ...

maybe I'm just burrowing too.

Remember - you are exactly where you are meant to be...

the discomfort is there for a reason.

Be uncomfortable.

Sit in this.

The fork in the road is near.

They Are (still) Here

I woke up without an agenda this morning. All I knew for sure was I didn't want any demands placed upon me upon my waking. I succeeded.

I was awake and out of bed by 5:00 am. "I should grab a cup of coffee and place myself at the computer keyboard and see what happens", I thought to myself.

I made a cup of coffee and turned on the TV instead. Always a bad move. 

Thanks to the relentless swishing of our cat's tail bashing me across the head as I nestled into the couch in my favorite TV watching position, I was alerted to this sight:

I haven't had an actual rabbit-sighting for a good, long while. The evidence they leave behind is all I need. Lots and lots (and lots) of rabbit tracks in the snow. Also a lot of "rabbit fertilizer" underneath the fir tree (where I just happen to leave some grain out for any critter who is looking for a winter supplement). 

I love taking in their unseen presence but I still revel in an actual rabbit sighting. The last two wild critters to cross my path have been red foxes. One fox ran across the highway in front of me as I was driving to my weekend oasis. The second fox ran in front of my aunt's deck and was gone faster than I could get up off the chair and investigate further.

What is the symbolism behind spotting a fox? Without doing a spec of research, my first instinct was to wonder if the presence of foxes had anything to do with the lack of rabbits I have seen.

Thus, I was grateful to spot these rabbits this morning. Evidence suggested rabbits were dominating the landscape but it is always nice to see things with my own two eyes.

Footprints in the Snow

I am feeling oddly giddy about the season we are in at the moment. Darkness lingers longer in the morning allowing me to pad about our dimly lit house with a sense of peace. Night arrives sooner which coincides nicely with my personal preference to power down early. And our first dusting of snow has reminded me of what I love about the upcoming weather ahead. Footprints in the snow.

I have stopped window-gazing lately so I haven't been spotting our neighborhood rabbits as regularly as I did once upon a time. But I have seen the odd one so I know they are there. There is simply no evidence of their presence.

Last night, my daughter arrived home after dark and told me to check out the oddly suspicious "rocks" in the neighbor's yard. Rocks? I was not in the rabbit mindset so it took a minute to clue into the fact there were rabbits next door. One big one and a small one.

What a happy moment it was as I gazed at what I am almost certain was a mom/baby combo. The baby was facing Mom, ever watchful of her movements. Baby tried to be still like Mom but its youthful exuberance trumped the "rock" pose and baby ran a small loop around Mom and eventually landed back in the same rabbit print in the snow. This happened twice before Mom decided it was time to move on. Baby leapt at the opportunity and raced across the street. Mom was in hot pursuit and they were checking out yards out of my view when I lost sight of them.

Ahhh! It is the season when even if I don't actually spot the rabbits, they leave evidence of their presence. Even when we have faith in what we cannot see, it lightens the spirit just a little more to see proof that what we believe to be true is fact.

Breaking Patterns

Breaking a pattern can be as simple as changing ONE thing that sets you down a familiar path. This is sometimes exactly what one wants but is not always what is best.

I went for a walk bright and early this morning. I had a familiar, calming destination in mind. When I first set out, my thoughts were much of the same old, same old thoughts I've been recycling, reusing and ruminating on the past while. 

As I walked, I heard the pouty little voice inside my thoughts say, "There aren't any rabbits". A more hopeful side of that same voice reminded myself, "Maybe they are having their second batch of babies and the moms are in hiding". Then I tuned into my surroundings as I continued on my way and spotted one, then another rabbit. "There they are! You just have to keep walking and being mindful" the more level headed side of myself said.

I found myself at my favorite city watering hole (a man made storm water pond) which brings me back to earth and calmness envelopes me.

There were three pelicans swimming around. A duck flew in for a swim. Another large bird flew overhead (but didn't land) which reminded me of a Canada goose but it was some other bird. There were a red winged blackbirds singing their hearts out and interacting with one of the pelicans. 

                                         

I stood and marveled at the sight before me for at least fifteen minutes. Watching. Listening. Taking pictures and videos to capture the sights and sounds. It was heavenly. I thought of nothing but the moment I was in.

As I was leaving the area, I spotted a rabbit. Then a second one. The rabbits are still around. One just needs to be in a place where they like to hang out. 

As I made my way home, I reminded myself that sometimes what we are looking for is as close as our own backyard or neighborhood. If one can't find peace within themselves at home, it may be a futile effort to go seeking it elsewhere.

My thoughts were familiar yet brought back to life as I walked this morning. I came home feeling revived and refreshed.

Then what did I do? I settled right into my familiar routine. I made my breakfast smoothie, tuned into my favorite podcast, did my puzzles, signed into my work computer ... and the spell was broken. Poof! Back to real life. Back to the books.

Change ONE thing upon returning home. Grab a cup of coffee and sit in my own back yard. Grab something to write with and just let the thoughts flow out of my head and onto the page. Take time to pause before taking a dive into the deep end of life.

Work. Life. Responsibilities. They are unavoidable. I believe they are best managed if we take care of our soul a little first and foremost. 

Break ONE pattern. Allow yourself to immerse yourself in a moment. I highly recommend nature, even if only to stop and gaze out the window and see what appears if you watch long enough. The process may not work miracles but it just may reroute your thoughts into your inner wisdom, hopefulness and a renewed perspective before the realities of the day must be met.

Writing Revisited

I'm back to my regularly scheduled writing after a short break from writing-off-the-cuff. My most recent posts were written almost a year ago. I wrote the words, walked away and gave them time and distance. The words passed the test of time, then revisions and the go-ahead to post them by the person who inspired the thoughts.

"It's not my story to tell" are words I hold onto when sitting down to write. Thus? I have been writing an awful lot about robins and rabbits lately. No confidentiality breach. And should these critters have the ability to understand, I didn't write anything I wouldn't say in front of them (another "rule" I do my best to uphold).

Our lives interact with so very many others. What we see and take from a situation can vary vastly from what the only other person in the room gleans from the same interaction. I've been part of situations I barely recognize when the other person retells their version of the story. There can be a wide variance between each person's takeaway when people recall the same incident.

When I replay unpleasant interactions in my mind and try to make sense of how things went so terribly wrong, I do my best to try and see things from the other person's point of view. It calms me when I consider where the other party is coming from.

I can still see the expression on Mom's face and the sting in her words when I would make a comment about her, in front of her. She made no bones about the fact that she did not appreciate anyone else's interpretation on how she was feeling or about something concerning her. "Oh I do, do I?" was the essence of what I remember about those interactions.

It was in and around that time when I put the brakes on writing about anything that was not my story to tell. Since then, there have been countless times when I've walked through new and uncomfortable situations involving other people's stories. Confidentiality is everything. I questioned the wisdom of writing out loud, then simply stopped writing. Period.

As I wrote these words, they felt familiar. I searched my own blog to find exactly what I was trying to say. I wrote this six months ago:

"My story is how I navigated my side of other people's stories. If I write about my journey, not theirs ... to tell a story without telling ALL ... I think that is the key. My side of the story. Learning as I go. Love and loss and parenting and change and acceptance and curiosity ... and the never ending goal of seeking JOY."

The path I have walked has been mine alone but the other side of the story is still a privacy I want to respect. There have been lessons learned, perspectives gained, a broader understanding and a lot of learning. 

Life teaches us everything we need to learn and so much more than we want to learn, as we make our way through one life-event to the next. It has always been my goal to tell a little story and wind it up with a life lesson. Sometimes I succeed. Other times? I just need to write about rabbits. 

The Crow verses The Baby Rabbit

As promised, here is a frivolous post about my latest walking adventure.

I didn't spot a rabbit immediately upon setting out on my walk but about fifteen minutes into my morning stroll, I came upon this (note the crow on the sidewalk close to the house):

I was in the process of trying to snap a few pictures noting the way crows and rabbits peacefully co-exist in the same space with the instinctual knowledge that neither is a threat to the other, when suddenly there was a flurry of crow verses baby rabbit activity.

It happened so fast. A little rabbit darted out of the scenery above with the crow in hot pursuit. I followed the action scene, prepared to fend off the crow and come to the little one's rescue. 

The crow was perched upon the fence beside a vehicle and was glancing downward. I followed the crow's line of sight and found this baby rabbit hiding under the vehicle the crow was guarding:

I neared the fence where the crow was perched and gave the crow a stern warning. "You leave that little rabbit alone!" It is said crows are very intelligent so I expected the crow to understand my body language and tone. The crow flew up to the rooftop of the garage beside the fence and I added further warnings to my previous one, all the while standing guard beside this baby's hiding spot.

Eventually the crow flew off. The tiny little rabbit came out of hiding and hopped into the alley. I have had very little experience with baby rabbits but from my few recent encounters, they seem to act far more skittish and cagey than their adult kin. I fully expected this little guy to dart out of sight before I could focus and snap a picture. I was wrong:

This traumatized baby rabbit stayed still long enough for me to stop and admire its bravery. I left it alone in the alley, hopeful this furry little ball of rabbit recognized I was not a threat as I walked the other way (even though I would have been happy to sit and watch it all day).

What did that crow want to do with that little baby? Mean crow!! Shame on you! 

P.S. I just googled "Do crows hunt baby rabbits?" and they DO!! I may have saved a life today.

Down an (almost) Literal Rabbit Hole

My morning walk is not dictated by a set route. I simply follow where the road takes me. Come along with me this morning ...

I decided to "turn right" and walk down the cat walk beside our home. 

This is who I found at the end of the alley. It reminded me of the rabbits who led the way after Mom died (I wrote about it here: https://colleen-lifeasiknowit.blogspot.com/2017/09/dear-mom.html), when I wasn't ready to leave her home. I embraced the memory and followed where this rabbit led:

I guess we are turning left:

Brief pit stop while checking traffic conditions before crossing a busy street:

One quick crossing before the big one:

I tailed along assuming that was the last I saw of the rabbit, but I was wrong:

Here we go on a "rabbit chase", as I walked along as slowly and quietly as I could so I wouldn't spook my new long eared friend:

Look who they met. If you look verrrrry closely in the grass beside the post on the right, with an orange tip you will note a small blur of "rabbit":

Yes, my new rabbit friend found their friend. Notice how they are pointed in different directions so when they sense peril, they can each head off in a separate direction to keep one out of danger:

Sure enough, one darted in the yard it was facing and the other headed straight down the alley:

And ... there appeared (what I can only assume may be a third rabbit because it seemed to come from a different direction than rabbit headed when it hid out of sight):

This pair lost me soon after they found each other. I guess they had had enough of the game of keeping half a block ahead of a human. So I carried on, thinking I may have hit the end of my rabbit adventures.

As I started heading back toward the direction I came from, I saw a very small moving animal off in the distance. Sure enough, even when I came closer it was still a very small animal. I am pretty sure this little one was a baby - quite small and not a hint of lightness in its brand new coat of fur, with no remnants from a shedded white winter coat:

This little one appeared to be on its own and it was very cagey with me. It darted into a back yard and was heading toward the front yard when I last saw it:

I walked to the end of the street then back in front, hoping I may see it again. No luck. So I walked around the block, came up the same back alley (anyone watching me this morning may assume I was staking out the neighborhood for some unlawful reason). I felt badly that I got the dogs in their backyards all riled up (again) but walked quickly, deciding this would end my walk for the day when ...

... look who appeared at almost exactly the same spot as before. I am guessing it was the same baby rabbit I spotted earlier. This time it turned left instead of right, never to be seen again:

I wistfully hoped to discover a rabbit in my own back yard when I arrived home but no such luck. My morning was lost down an above-ground "rabbit hole". This sure beats losing myself down a "rabbit hole" when one internet search leads to the next, next, another and yet another one.

Let yourself find your own adventure as you wander down the road of life. You never know where it may take you.

Wisps of Hope

Something has shifted in my list of priorities. Gazing out our living room watching, waiting and hoping to spot one of our neighbor rabbits hop by has fallen by the wayside.

I open the blinds and sometimes forget to scour the streets to see if I can spot a rabbit hiding in plain sight. I miss the snow and evidence of their presence when I'm not looking, by finding rabbit tracks in the snow.

I wonder about the fate of our neighborhood rabbits. Are they still around? Has something killed them off or scared them away? Why haven't I spotted a rabbit for so long? 

I walked to the mailbox to mail a letter this morning, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? But a rabbit!!

This little rabbit did not run off and hide. Instead, it kept about one house ahead of me until it finally veered off in the opposite direction.

My faith was restored. I smiled a little smile and my heart was happy.

Then I came home and look what I spotted in our front yard. 

Five "white patches" (just the size of a rabbit perhaps?)

Could it be?? Could rabbits be hanging out and shedding the last of their winter white fur coat? 

Or ... are these spider webs? 

I choose to believe it is rabbits, leaving evidence of their presence in the only way they can without snow.

Wisps of hope are all around. 

Stop and hope and wonder.

Wish for impossible things.

Take time to appreciate the small stuff.

It's worth it. 

Sunday Morning Rabbit Watching

Bliss

I replenished our rabbit food supply and waited.

It didn't take long. I put the rabbit food out Friday night. As soon as I woke up Saturday morning, I checked. I was not disappointed. One lone rabbit was nibbling at the fresh supply of rabbit food under our fir tree.

No such luck Sunday morning but we have time.

My two favorite rabbit-spotters are on patrol. We shall watch and wait. I'm certain we will not be disappointed.

Small Wonders

I have not had my fill of rabbit-spotting the past several months. I had almost given up hope and wondered if they had moved out of our neighborhood or succumbed to a tragic demise due to some carnivorous animal's appetite. 

I have since had a few brief spottings and my faith has been restored. The rabbits are still in the area but without a snow covered yard, the evidence of their presence is very discreet.

I haven't seen too many rabbits at my aunt's lately either. Her location is a rabbit's haven (lots of bush, grass, flowers, along with quiet, slow moving people). 

I was craving a little bit of rabbit wonder in my day when I had two spottings. One brief sighting of a rabbit hopping down our street first thing in the morning, followed by a pair of rabbits at my aunt's who settled in for an extended after supper snack of grass and basking in the moment: 

Though they were well aware of my presence, they didn't move from their spots when I headed to my car and they gave me the gift of this photo.

I opened the blinds this morning to spot two rabbits hopping down our street. 

A very good way to start the day.

Rabbit sightings fill the void I sometimes feel within. 

Nature does that for me every time. 

I think it is time to add "rabbit food" to my list. 

I could use a little daily dose of wonder.

What brings wonder to your days? 

How can you attract that which brings you joy?

There is no one size fits all prescription but keep looking for the small wonders of the world. 

They may be closer than you think.

A Baby!!!

My aunt called out to me, "Those magpies are after the rabbit under the picnic table". My aunt knows how much I adore rabbits so I was expecting to see a full grown rabbit and an interaction between a rabbit and a bird. I didn't expect to witness what was unfolding before us.

Six magpies had cornered and surrounded a tiny baby rabbit under a picnic table. This feisty little rabbit was rearing up on its haunches in an attempt to scare off its attackers. 

We assessed the situation for a minute before I went out to shoo off the magpies. They were quite determined to continue the pursuit of this defenseless little rabbit and I actually had to circle the table before all six of them flew away.

I knelt down and talked to the baby rabbit in what I hoped it would understand as a friendly tone. I made quiet little sounds and tried to convince the baby I was not going to hurt it. I picked up some dandelion leaves and extended my hand toward the little rabbit and it approached me.

I thought my heart may explode with glee. This baby was coming to me! 

As soon as it got to my hand, it made little rabbit growling sounds and scratched my fingers with its front paws. It was not interested in the dandelion leaves I had offered. It was determined to show me who was boss and I respected this fierce little bunny warrior's stance.

I should have quietly backed away and left this little critter alone but my joy of not only seeing a baby rabbit but actually having it approach me and touch me captivated my attention. So I stayed.

My aunt's apartment is not the only one in this complex that faces this park setting. The moment I looked up and away from the rabbit was when I realized one of my aunt's neighbors was standing right behind me, taking a picture of this baby. I walked away from the scene and another neighbor told me this baby had been spotted by others earlier in the day. We wondered where its mother was and we just wanted this baby to feel safe and protected.

I was feeling a tad melancholy before the baby rabbit encounter. My heart was not in my day and I truly just wanted to be home tending to my own little world. I was having a hard time being away from home when my aunt called my attention to the little miracle hidden within a regular ordinary day.

In the millisecond it took for that baby rabbit to approach me, I felt I was living my dream. One day, I sat at this very computer and wrote of Setting Intentions. Number one on the list is: "Tame a wild rabbit or two".

Nature. Lost in the moment. Feeling the touch of a baby rabbit. The world beyond the baby rabbit and me did not exist in that moment. I was lost. Lost in my field of dreams. I didn't build it. But I did imagine it. If you imagine it, you will recognize it when it comes.

May you find amazement in one small moment today. A moment that takes your breath away.

Who Doesn't Love Rabbits?

One of my greatest joys in life is noticing a rabbit hopping through our neighborhood or the park like setting where my aunt lives. Rabbit spotting became a much enjoyed event while I visited Mom and one of my favorite photos is one of a small jack rabbit who hopped into Mom's back yard and settled in for a bit. We named him (or her) "Jack".

I have this 4" X 6" photo on display on the top shelf of  Mom's corner shelving unit in our living room, nestled in with other meaningful mementos which honor my memories of Mom. 

As per our own family's version of Emily Post (who literally wrote the book on etiquette), I followed Mom's rule of not having personal photos on display in the living room. The corner shelving unit holds items which have special meaning to me but its contents are rather generic to a casual visitor.

Never have I ever been more grateful for following one of Mom's rules of decorating when someone I don't know gazed at our sparsely decorated living room and made the comment "I hope you ate that rabbit!" when he looked at the framed photo of "Jack".

Now, I was already having my reservations about this human being. My spidey senses were tingling and I felt like a dog with its hair raising on the back of its shoulders. I just didn't feel good about this professional computer doctor who was in my midst. Then he made this comment and I felt my "inner Margaret" get her hackles up and I thought loudly (in Mom's voice), "I knew I didn't like this guy!" 

Who has the insensitivity to make such a rude comment to a person who obviously feels strongly enough about rabbits to photograph, frame and display on the top shelf of a room that holds no other personal touches? Who continues to have a conversation and debate the worthiness of rabbits after sharing the fact that Mom & I enjoyed watching and even named him?

I am not even certain if I was civil to this human after the above interaction.

Who doesn't love rabbits?! I honestly don't want to know this answer. I am having a very hard time not going off on a rant about this person's customer service. He was hanging on by a thread. It was that thread that hung him. I will not be calling him back.

I cannot trust a person who doesn't like rabbits.

The Brave Rabbit

My aunt's deck faces onto a park-like setting. It is a large green space with flowers, shrubs, trees,  a community garden and raspberry bushes in sight. There is a small ravine-like area nearby and even though the city has grown up around this area, it is a little oasis unto itself.

Rabbits dwell somewhere in the greenery and show themselves regularly. We have no idea how many rabbits actually live in the area. One time five of them hopped into plain sight when the weekly lawn maintenance crew scared them out of their hiding spots, so I believe there are many more than meet the eye.

The rabbits have grown accustomed to their neighbors. The average age within this community may be around 85 years, with a vast majority of the residents walking with the assistance of a walker. It's a quiet, slow moving, nature loving group. If I was a rabbit, this is definitely a place I would like to call home.

Last night, there was a group of all ages gathered together to provide some entertainment to the residents. My best guess is they were doing Taekwondo or some variation of the martial arts. 

Three of the younger crowd gathered spotted a rabbit and started chasing it. The rabbit must have been in a state of shock, being pursued by these fast moving humans. Instead of running in a straight line that would have led to a means of escape, the rabbit darted into a corner and had to weave and dodge to avoid its enemy.

One of the adults in the group noticed the rabbit chase and called the children off. The kids quickly heeded the command. I could feel a collective sigh of relief as the rabbit immediately knew it was out of danger.

Then what did the rabbit do? It maintained its course. It stayed in its location and edged even closer to the group. It nibbled on the newly sodded grass, wandered through the flower garden, ate a white petunia and took its merry time before it left the area.

I could have swore the rabbit looked up and watched me watching it. I think this may have been the rabbit I have bonded with recently. I have walked by and made eye contact with a rabbit on this new patch of sod a few nights as I left my aunts. I walked very close to it, it looked toward me with one ear back and one ear fully alert.

I felt a connection to the rabbit on the run. I was amazed it stayed the course and did not run off into the nearby forest to ensure its safety. When it not only stayed in the area but moved even closer to the young, fast moving group I couldn't help but wonder what instincts were guiding it. 

The wistful part of me hoped it was a God wink intended just for me. I had just written about Mom and she has been in my thoughts and conversations a lot lately. Mom. Me. Rabbits. We have a connection. If Mom could find a way to communicate with me in her absence, I think she would choose the language of rabbits.

My brave little rabbit. You may have been protecting your young and just diverting the attention of your pursuers from them. But I choose to think you were watching me watching you. It is wishful thinking but I am comforted by the thought that you could be a little God wink from Mom ...

Need I Say More?

Guess who hopped by this morning?