Praise Song for What Hides in Plain Sight

If you’re the tidy type looking at the scruffy base of this sugar maple, you see an unkempt yard, a weed patch. If you’re an environmentalist, you see an unexpected pocket of biodiversity in place of the typical suburban monoculture. If you’re my children, you see the tree where the rope swing once hung. If you’re a dog, you see a good spot to pee. If you’re a mama cottontail, you see the place where you hid your babies.

The dog on his leash cannot uncover this nest. The rat snake who ate all the chickadee nestlings has not found it in his rounds. Neither the cat two doors down nor the cat across the street has any idea it’s here. I discovered the rabbit’s secret only because this tree lies just beyond the mealworm feeder. When I stand at the storm door to watch the bluebirds, I can see the cottontail approach her nest at dusk.

She holds absolutely still while the babies nudge through the fur and grass she has tucked above them. She holds absolutely still while they reach for her, absolutely still for the few moments it takes them to feed. I can watch all this and never leave the house. Outdoors I give the tree a wide berth whenever I walk past. I am desperate to peek at the baby rabbits, but I don’t want the rat snake to follow the scent of my footsteps in the grass.