When I was a child, one of my favorite books was The Velveteen Rabbit. Come to think of it, it’s still one of my favorite books and I re-read it regularly.
Last week, in the wee hours of the morning, I had the privilege of watching our wild bunnies dance, very much as was described in The Velveteen Rabbit. We’d had a heavy snowfall, then the skies had cleared. The moonlight reflecting off the snow filled the yard with a clear blue-tinged light that one only sees under those unique conditions. James and two other young bunnies burrowed out from under the snow, then hopped about the yard, chasing each other in circles and then veering off and bounding into the air as high as bunnies can leap. For over an hour they alternated playing tag with stopping to nibble the tops off of perennials that we hadn’t cut down (knowing that the bunnies would do it for us).
It was absolutely magical.
In the morning, I almost couldn’t believe I had seen it… except… I had proof. The deep snow in our yard is full of bunny paw prints, so many that it looks like an entire herd of bunnies has stampeded through!
This was the scene looking out of our front window yesterday morning. It might say “autumn” on the calendars, but around here winter has settled in to stay. Last year was our third snowiest here in northeast Wisconsin ever since the National Weather Service started keeping records. We had around 87 inches of snow. But, hey, records are made to be broken… we’ve already had twice as much snow this year as had fallen last year by this date.
Couldn’t we do something different this year and break the record for, say, warmest winter?
*sigh*
I’m guessing not.
This is what our back yard looks like now. That’s a lotta snow for this early in the winter. The large black and white blob in the center of the yard, btw, is a gorgeous loon windspinner that Michael gave me for my birthday this year. Besides being fun to watch, Loony is a great wind vane, moving to face into the wind with the slightest breeze.
James the Bunny (son of Stewart) has become our yard bunny for the winter. Stewart moved across the street this summer and Petunia also found new digs. James was my constant companion for the second half of the summer and early autumn, hopping about very happily when I was in the yard. He’s now become quite curious about Michael’s comings and goings between the yard and his workshop, to the point where Michael has to be careful to not step on him.
One of these days Michael will hear a soft tapping on his shop door… and when he opens it James will blithely hop in and claim a spot right in front of the heater where he can warm his toes and ears.
If he asks for a glass of carrot juice, that’s where we’re drawing the line.
One. Precisely one. That’s the number of blue morning glory blooms I had this year, thanks to a certain clan of long-eared varmints that finds morning glories incredibly toothsome.
As you can see, the vines were well caged. I suspect that the bunnies boosted each other up when we weren’t looking, balancing precariously atop one another’s shoulders so they could nibble the plants down.
I wouldn’t put it past them.
Bunnies. Hmpfh.
This is James, my favorite baby bunny from Stewart and Petunia’s three litters this year. The shape and size of his ears and his white-patched ruffly fur are pure Petunia. But his trim size and personality are all Stewart.
To my delight, James, like his father Stewart, companionably hops out of his hidey hole to check things out when I’m in the yard. I can stand or sit less than five feet from him without causing him any alarm, although he is a bit camera shy and will not let me as close if I have That Suspicious Camera that Makes Dangerous Noises in my hand.
Unlike Stewart, James becomes very skittish if anyone else appears, and instantly bolts for safety, for which I’m glad.
A shy bunny is a safer bunny, when it comes to the Big Wide World.
Kris over at Reflections By Kris is clearly suffering from a serious case of Yard Bunny Deprivation. She’s so filled with longing, so absolutely desperate for a yard bunny of her own that she’s now chasing after the neighbor’s rabbit, Mr. Bun Bun, and snapping shots of him with her cellphone camera.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sad, no?
Petunia says to tell Mr. Bun Bun howdy.
(Take that, indeed! Humpfh!)
Village Life, bunnies | JAS | 
December 15, 2008 2:17 am | 
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