In this morning’s backyard drama the tiny green bird has crashed into the glass of the sliding door and lies feet up and claw-splayed on the brick patio. A chipmunk, not much larger, approaches cautiously, and behind it, a rabbit nails its hopping halt, eyeing it. Within ten feet of me, a scene containing all the ingredients for tragedy or comedy. I wait patiently for it to play out—irony, brutality, redemption, holiness. But the bird just further stiffens into rigor, the chipmunk scurries off, its tail startlingly erect. And the rabbit, a-twirl, rushes off to raid the neighbor’s cucumbers.
Photo Credit: David Burke