Almond of Bloom

The rain has slacked off at last, though it was still damp and chilly out. When I came down in the morning, the Sparrowhawk was up, and was standing very still by the dining room window. He said "Shh" and pointed with his eyes. A bunny was sitting in the front flowerbed near the window, washing its face in the morning dew. It was so cute. It washed its face and paws just the way a cat does. I tried to be very quiet, but some sound must have alerted it. It froze, and put back its ears and folded everything in so it made a smooth, oval shape, like a little bun-bun netsuke. I thought if I held very still, it might come out again. It watched a robin cheekily hopping around, fearless, and it started to unfold its ears again, but then something warned it to freeze again. It outwaited me, and then seized what it thought was a safe opportunity, and bounded out of sight.

The Sparrowhawk had a phone call with a former colleague at work, who was in need of some advice and a safe place to vent. [I just deleted an explanation of what that was all about--basically, the company is still the same as ever, and people are still playing stupid power games and refusing to make needed changes happen. Verbum sat sapienti est. Shrug.] I went upstairs and worked on putting things away and dusting stuff, and played "The Red Flag" and Woody Guthrie singing "All You Fascists" to soothe my soul. Later, I had a chat with a friend via text, until another friend, the Poet, called to catch up. So, lots of social interaction and not much outdoor recreation today. We also sent off our contributions to the festivities for Muffinhead, who is about to graduate from high school, and Angelbaby, who turns 16 on the same day. Alas, we can't be there in person.

I see from my Book of Records from the Time of Legends that this time last year, I was in Ann Arbor investigating death doulas against my better judgment with people who were in a highly unstable mental condition. I'm in a better place right now, and grateful to be here.