Fall is hunting season for Pepper…
She knows that there’s one last crop of baby bunnies in the yard –
Half-grown babies –
Who softly hide in the bushes out front
And sometimes out back
So Pepper checks under each bush, front and back, when we go out.
She checks the woodpile just to make sure.
A baby bunny would be so –
Tender in the jaw –
Pepper dreams. She maybe remembers –
Having gotten a baby in her jaws that one time, when she was just a baby herself.
Fall is hunting season for me too.
I’m hunting for leaves that crunch on steps
For the alien seeds of fall on the Kouza dogwood.
I’m hunting for berries on the tidy hollies –
On the wildling privet –
On the ancient hydrangea trees planted by a grandmother years ago.
I’m hunting for the tiny weeds blooming purple in the yard –
I’m hunting for the leaves that handle maturity with grace –
And the leaves that say fuck it all, at least we’re in this together.
I’m hunting for the individualist –
I’m hunting for things I didn’t expect –
For something tender in the jaw?
Not so much.
A tail wagging in the bushes is enough.
I enjoy your photos and insights so very much!
Thank you so very much, dear friend! xoxo
Love Pepper in the woodpile!
The individualist leaf-
And the wooden infinity.
Laughs and lessons, perhaps.
I’m so happy to hear from you at Bacon, Helen! And I’m so glad that you like the musings/rantings? of Pepper and me. xoxo
Jennifer, thank you for a lovely start to a busy week.
Sending you warmest wishes, Jean – as you warmed the beginning of my week with your kind comment. xoxo
You have such a distinctive and accessible voice! An ideal observation as we get reacquainted with cooler weather. Thank you, Jennifer!
Truly, it means so much to me to hear from you, Beth – such a beautiful and passionate writer and reader!! Thank you – xoxo
Your musings and insights enrich my life. Thank you.