Thunder is rumbling just to the west as I write this from the screen porch. The lake is mostly calm, with a few surface ripples. Every now and again, the breeze answers the thunder with a loud sigh. We are fully leafed out now, and with the load of rain we received last week, the fire danger is low. That's a sigh of relief for us, should this coming storm produce much in the way of lightning. It's always enjoyable to watch a storm develop, especially from the safety of our front porch.
Paul made a discovery last week that he kindly shared with me. While out doing yardwork, he encountered a little clutch of baby bunnies.
Such irresistable little guys we have not seen in a long time. What is it about babies that makes us want to drop everything and just watch them? I recall that feeling with my own sweet little ones. It seems I spent countless moments watching them sleep. Perhaps a part of me knew that those days would fly by--as they did--and I wanted to cement the image into my mind, to have forever.
These wee ones didn't really want to be watched that closely. They began wiggling and moving, sneaking their way under a nearby chunk of lumber. Probably a good idea, as it would provide more shelter from predators who might be passing by. We got to see one guy on his own, and he posed for this photo:
I loved how his ears were still little things, but his feet showed the promise of size and leaping ability. He'll need those, if he ends up living near the road, as so many bunnies do. Why they choose that location, I still can't answer. I do my best not to hit any when traveling a certain stretch of our side road, but sometimes there are a dozen or more.
It's the season of babies, most certainly. We'll keep our eyes on the lookout for more of the new crop of creatures in our neck of the woods.