Trust

When my husband turns up missing, I should know by now where he goes. And so now this is the first place I look for him: out front, near the rhododendrons and the azalea hedge, hanging out with the bunnies. Eastern cottontails, to be exact. And there are two of them: Mini Bunzini (shown in this picture) and Spot.

Mini Bunzini, who lives beneath the azalea hedge, is the favored rabbit of the two. Spot hails from a brush pile near the edge of the yard. They can sometimes be seen playing together; occasionally, other times, having a kerfuffle, usually over who gets first dibs on the bunny snacks. 

On this particular Monday morning, I was working at home, and conditions outside were very, very foggy and white. The temperature was right around freezing, a degree or so above it, and the weather was trying to decide whether it was going to sleet, or freezing rain, or just plain rain. In the end, throughout the day, it did a bit of each, just to keep us guessing. It was perfect hypothermia weather: wet and miserable.

Things were quiet in the house and I went to check on my husband. I walked downstairs and looked out the big front windows into the snow and the bushes. And there, in a chair, sat my husband, nursing along his second cup of coffee. And there, on the ground near his feet, was his best little buddy, Mini Bunzini.

I watched as my husband tossed a few peanuts for the bun. These past few mornings, Spot has sneaked in and eaten the best of Mini Bunzini's breakfast. You know how it is: you get to the buffet, but you find that it's all picked over, and most of the best stuff is gone. (Oh, of course, Mini-B was given a second, additional snack. Let me assure you that no-bunny goes hungry in these parts.)

And as I watched, Mini Bunzini hopped very close to my husband, nuzzled his shoe, and then in a gesture of trust, curled up snug and safe beneath my husband and the chair. One man and one rabbit, quietly enjoying each other's company, taking shelter from the storm.

The song to accompany this quiet moment . . .  I can't choose between two that are among my very favorite songs ever. So I have decided to include them both. They are really awesome tunes, each in its own right, and I encourage you to listen to them both, if you are a fan at all of either Bob Dylan or the Stones: The Rolling Stones, with Gimme Shelter; and Bob Dylan, with Shelter from the Storm.

P.S. It is tempting to editorialize here on the meaning of all of these things. Some have suggested to me that each of these creatures shown in this photograph may be taming the other. I do not know if that is the case, for one of the creatures in this shot - I have known him for a very, very long time - and I am not sure that he can be tamed.

But the rabbit, however, seems to be responding well to the awesome combination of love, patience, kindness, and food. Those who are interested in learning more about what it means to be tamed may enjoy this tale about the little prince and the fox from the wonderful story, The Little Prince. Sometimes, it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye . . .