At the IGA today, two pound bags of carrots were selling for 87 cents a bag, of course I bought three bags for our resident rabbit; that’s $3.00 for six pounds of carrots while five pounds of carrots is usually $5.00. This should last me over a month or so of daily feeding the rabbit. Yesterday, I saw the rabbit running across the backyard, the days are getting longer and the crepuscular light he favours is later in the day. Today, after I finished shovelling last night’s snow, I saw what looked like a small dog running along the sidewalk on the other side of the street; then I realized it was the rabbit. He’s a busy little fellow! He's also avoiding the crows who would love to swoop down and fly away with a rabbit; however, I suspect he's too heavy for that.
The days are getting longer by about a minute a day, so when we get home around 4:30 p.m. it is still a little bright outside, it isn't dark as it was on Christmas Day. Anyhow, we arrive home and I go outside and leave a carrot, cut into pieces, for the rabbit. Yesterday I noticed the rabbit is leaving little gifts, rabbit poops, where I leave the carrot, and the rabbit gave me a good laugh over this. I am not certain he even liked carrots when I first left them for him, but now he visits everyday for his carrot snack. Yesterday, he arrived within minutes of my leaving his snack; after I left his carrot beside the bird bath, he appeared as though he had been waiting for me to leave the carrot and go away. This rabbit brings me a lot of happiness, now we both stand by the window looking outside at the rabbit as he eats the carrots that are left for him. Video online 04 January 2026.
Arriving home Christmas Eve. It was dark and cold and snowing. Even in winter the garden is a place of life, seeing a rabbit digging in the snow and eating some grass. The garden is an invitation to birds, insects, and urban wildlife.
Fall is not far away, the days are shorter, the sunshine is not as hot, the nights are cooler, there is the smell of fall in the air, birds are flying south, bears prepare to hibernate, and the garden is closing down. While flowers are dying back we know that they will return in eight months, that’s eight long cold months. Cruel months. Monochromatic months of sense deprivation. No wonder we celebrate summer, tolerate winter, see winter as something to survive and put behind us, and in November we already count the months to spring.
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