Earlier, I wrote something in my personal blog about my beliefs concerning a Native American bloodline in my veins. I wrote it with every intention of posting it here with my thoughts about Native American lore that I’ve happened upon over the years, but it was more of a personal musing anyway. As it was, I wrote with feeling and intent.
This evening, I took my Jazzy out for her evening constitutional. She was intent on her meanderings and I was intent on the chore, which is why I didn’t notice it seconds before she did. There, in the side lot that I’ve mentioned as loveless and unwanted was a rabbit. It was a decent sized gray-brown with a fluffy white cottontail. I kind of froze, which was difficult with a 20 pound fatass barking at my feet. I was trying to think of the last time I had seen any animal in that desolate.place… Never. I have watched as offerings to plant and animal life decayed since nothing has ever bothered to take up what I’ve given.
A bunny… I mused as I watched it go from one end of fence to the other. It was searching for a way out but my snarling beast was blocking its departure. I lifted Jazz into my arms while she ravened at it in her cutely obnoxious way. What is a bunny doing here? I wondered as it paused picturesquely beneath the budding crab apple tree* in a fabulous tableau meant for artwork and dreams. The rabbit noticed the fatass in my arms and curtailed its butt into my landlady’s yard, uncertain by its route. I had the sneaking supicion that it had worried up a bit of fencing from a neighboring yard to get into the side lot.
Amused and spirited by the visitation, I thought nothing of it.
But… precipitous that it shows up after a musing of that depth? And very interesting that it’s the first bit of wildlife I have ever seen in that yard. Birds don’t even step foot in that area, which collects trash better than a chain-gang. It’s odd. It’s interesting. And it leaves me wondering…
* I posted a picture a while back of the hack job employed by the landlady to keep the tree from blooming. It has been chopped to bits and was deeply upset. But for once, it is in bloom. And I wonder…
- Musings on Native American Things
at DON’T PANIC.