Joy is not a given in the natural world.
The baby rabbit I watched cavorting in the pollinator garden was almost certainly born in the nest next to our backyard brush pile.
I have seen no other survivor from that litter, and their mother is still the lone adult rabbit in the yard.
I think the ever-present threat my wild neighbors live with must tell us something about the nature of joy.
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Rascal, haven’t, —, Margaret Renkl, ”
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