The sky darkens, thunder rolls. Rain engages in dance with giant hosta leaves. The brown rabbit sits motionless in the yard, ears at alert, eyes watching me at the window. Dinner interrupted. He (or perhaps she– how can I tell?) is still there when I put the blinds down against the oncoming dark, crouched in the middle of a island of dark green hues and various textures.
A few days ago, this same rabbit and three siblings, (friends?), frolicked outside the kitchen window, leaping and twisting madly in the air. Perhaps there’s rabbit-nip somewhere hidden in the bushes. They look soft and adorable with puffball tails, but their idea of a gourmet snack includes edible flowers…mine. A lovely little enclave of colors I had planted where the corner of the driveway intersected the lawn evidently appears to them to be a sushi bar. They seem to choose by color. All the small red flowers disappeared over the course of several nights. Eventually they moved on to other raw bars and natural foods restaurants and my flowers cautiously bloomed again.
This, that and the other thing 