For three summers in a row, a bunny has taken up residence in our yard. Simply put, she delights us.
She started living among us when she took up residence under our deck during the Winter of 2015. When spring arrived, she emerged more often, and of course, she ate our grass to her fill. That entire spring and summer, we loved watching her. We took pictures of her. We talked to her. She became a bit of a character on Facebook.
This bunny loved to spend time under our rose of sharon bushes, so we named her Rosa. And though we seemed silly with our smitten love for a pet yard bunny, I will tell you honestly that she gave us so much joy.
For a few months during next the Fall and Winter, she left us for a bit. But that next spring, she returned. At first, we decided she was “the same bunny.” But after watching her behaviors and interaction with the yard, it became pretty clear that this was really Rosa. After her return, she gave us another surprise too (though with cottontail rabbits, is this really surprising?) She had a baby. Smitten weirdos that we are, we named this bunny Rosalita and started calling her Lita for short.
Well, here we are three summers later, and our bunny is still with us. Truth be told, we don’t know if this is Rosa or Lita this time, but she is not very nervous around us, so she’s very likely one of the originals. We’ve decided she’s Lita.
And guess what? We take pictures of her. We talk to her. Occasionally, I put her on Facebook.
And from time to time, I occasionally think about this too:
This bunny has no idea about our lives. She recognizes us visually and knows our voices, but she has no earthly clue about the larger picture of our lives. She doesn’t know that we have names, work rhythms, or larger community connections. She doesn’t know that there is such a thing as Facebook.
But we delight in her, and I think that somehow matters.
She gives us delight, and we send that energy of delight back to her. Does it affect her? I like to think so. Deep down, in a way I don’t understand, I think it probably does.
And that makes me wonder. . . ? Who or what delights in us? Perhaps in ways that we can barely understand? Perhaps from a larger reality that we can barely intuit?
And who do we actually know with names and work rhythms and larger community connections — people who delight in us? Even across distance?
What a gift that delight must be. It must affect us somehow, even if it’s outside of our awareness.
How much more if we bring it into our awareness?