Cottontail Rabbits

Personal memory by Victoria Dickenson

2012Kleinburg, Canada

Seeing the flash of a cottontail rabbit's brilliant white tail as it flies from me. There are so few rabbits left, or so few that we see, worried by dogs and coyotes, by cats and lynx, and fleeing, always fleeing. They have little time to savour the late evening sun and the taste of spring grass. I find their soft grey fur scattered on paths where they screamed in the night, taken. Yet they persist, they stay, they refuse to be only prey. The rabbit turns, and looks and sees me, and runs.

Image: Gareth Rasberry, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons