In the flower bed beneath the big trees we have a bench. It is a cedar plank bolted to two 24-inch remnants of cedar logs that were left over when they trimmed the poles for our porches. The bench is designed for a quick respite rather than a long sojourn. Several days ago at dusk, I was sitting on the bench. The main entertainment is looking at the Lantana, the Barbados Cherry, and the trees. Old oak bark has a surprising amount of character, lots of deep furrows with interesting twists and turns. Periodically, the solar driven fountain will kick in and there’s the sound of running water. It’s a nice way to close the day. As I sat there, I saw movement to my left. It was the cottontail returning home. He crossed the yard coming toward me. As he moved around the trees to my left he passed behind me. He was close enough that I could have thrown a pot over him as Mr. McGregor did to Peter Rabbit. It was only a fleeting thought, however, and I let him pass. He made his way to the hole in the fence behind me and disappeared. I slapped at a mosquito and went inside for the night.
Posted on: Wed, 06 Aug 2014 11:24:09 +0000
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