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?
