“Earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some of us more than we can ever learn from books.”
— John Lubbock, British statesman (1834-1913)
Morning and evening I sit in front of Hatcher, the rabbit, feeding her greens I have foraged from the yard and refrigerator. Thanks to the rains there are plenty of greens to forage. She particularly likes dandelion leaves, parsley, a touch of basil, leaves of the Oriental sweet potato vine, mixed with an odd assortment of grasses. When the fields were first bush hogged, I gathered dry hay and kept it in a bag where I draw out small amounts daily. The hay is helpful in digestion-like fiber.
Since Hatcher is the lone survivor of her siblings and friends, I take more time sitting with her. The “Rabbits for Dummies” book suggested when a rabbit suffers loss of its companions that I should sit in front of her, wiggle my nose, curl my lips over my teeth, and move them similar to how Hatcher moves her lips as she’s eating. Much like munching. Wiggling one’s nose is not easy but in time it can be learned to some degree. The mouth is much easier. I like to think of the movements as facial exercises. The book didn’t explain why the teeth are covered but I believe it may be so I won’t look like a big toothy predator.
Last week the heat index was rising into the 100’s so I tried to shorten our visits a bit. I even thought about misting her in an effort to keep her cool. As I squatted before her a butterfly landed on my skirt. The wings of the butterfly slowly fanned. Then the butterfly extended her proboscis. I had no idea the proboscis could be so long, though it makes sense. The skirt was of a floral pattern and she moved from flower to flower, rolling out her proboscis like a rolled-up carpet. All I could think of besides being amazed was where is my phone/camera when I need it. I tell myself to carry it with me because you never know what incredible situation you might encounter in nature. Obviously, that butterfly was navigating by sight and not by smell. Butterflies do smell though they don’t have a nose. They smell with the tip of their antennae. Also, they do not eat. They drink through the straw-like proboscis. It was a delightful happening. I only wish I had my camera.
Away from the bunny pen I walked under the Oriental persimmon tree. Something has been eating on its leaves. The tree has plenty of leaves but each one looks nibbled on. There was no evidence of the culprit. There is an abundance of persimmons. Right now, they look like green eggs hanging in the tree. If all goes well there will be a good crop later on.
The oak tree dropped a pear right near where I was passing under its limbs. No doubt it was a squirrel. Poor fellow, he had lugged that heavy pear out of the pear tree, over and up the oak tree, only to miss its sweetness.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 32 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.