Evils

A rabbit skittered into my fenced yard and stopped. A jump, then two more. It was closer. Some time passed, and then the rabbit came closer.

I tried not to move, but when I instinctively slapped away some mosquitoes, it stayed put. It wasn’t frozen in fear, but comfortable, at a safe enough distance to sprint away if needed. As dogs and children chattered nearby, it struck me that it saw me as the lesser of the evils presented. Not safe, but not the most dangerous. How I regard most people.

Aware that my movement wouldn’t spook it, I searched “single rabbit sighting meaning” on my phone. Good luck. Fertility. Facing fears and embracing abundance. But look before you leap.

I decided to accept it as a comfort, however hokey, even if my initial assessment was truest.

The bird I’ve been trying to identify — the one that sounds like my dog crying — called a few times before I pulled up the bird identifying app, precisely six seconds into which the bird stopped. They all did. Within another few seconds, my face was freckled with the spit of early rain, then fat drops.

As I stood, collecting the hammock on which I’d been sitting to keep dry in the garage, I whispered thank-yous and be-safes to the rabbit, who watched me as the sprinkle heavied. One evil removed.