Down a rabbit hole

I’m sitting on the deck in the backyard, laptop at the ready. I was going to write about grace today. And I was looking at The United Methodist website to remind myself and make sure I didn’t write anything too far off target. But I looked up and my mind wandered as I noticed my surroundings.

There’s one of those nasty chipmunks that likes to take bites out of the tomatoes on the vine. Finding the green orb not to his taste, he then buries it next to the chard. A young cardinal perches in the overgrown shrub across the fence in the neighbor’s yard. A chickadee flies in its unique swooping way and lands on the shepherd’s hook that holds the feeders. What looks from here like a cabbage white moth lands on a marigold.

I’ve been trying to follow the Spirit’s leadings in the last few years. And I’ve gotten into the habit of questioning myself when I think my path is pointed in one direction, but my attention is leading me in another. So right now, I’m wondering where this blog entry is going to go.

I said nasty chipmunk earlier. Our yard has an abundance of those and squirrels and rabbits. Last fall, I think I momentarily astonished Kay when I said I hoped the hawks would eat well that winter. As a somewhat passionate gardener, I’m discouraged by the many rodent taste-testers we have in the neighborhood.

… There’s a young goldfinch. I haven’t seen many of those this year….

But I had a bit of a conversion in June. I was again sitting on the deck. It was evening. As I watched, a rabbit hopped into the yard and for the next ten minutes (at least) I observed her as she hopped a few steps at a time, from one spot on the buffet to another. Here some tall grass that was beginning to flower, there to eat all the leaves and flower stalks of a rather large dandelion. Not once during that time did this critter eat any of my favorites. I sat still and silent, within ten feet of her as she ate that dandelion. I studied her features, her eyes, the way she moved, how she ate.

And I came to care as I hadn’t cared before, to see her as a beloved part of God’s creation.

I learned this spring that rabbits can eat their weight in plant matter in the course of one night. Considering what I know about the thousands of mosquitoes one bat can eat, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still I will tell you that I look at rabbits a little differently since that evening. I still won’t like it when they decimate a garden planting, but I hope that I’ll be able to hold onto the idea that they and I all deserve to live the lives God hopes for us.