Yesterday we found a little bunny in the garden who had died, perhaps drowned in the previous day’s deluge of torrential rains, perhaps done in by a predator. I sketched it for a few minutes admiring it’s perfection, even in death, before I buried it out back in the woods. This spring I’ve been keenly aware of the Movement of Life. The gardens, green beyond belief and flora and fauna in such vast numbers that I cannot keep up. But we try. In the midst of it all, taking drawn notes in my sketchbook helps me to take it all in. I’m grateful for the gift of finding this bunny to sketch up close, as I rarely get to observe the wild rabbits too closely.
The chicklets have moved outdoors permanently, taking to scritching in the grass for bugs like it’s their job. Yet I worry about them still, being young and small and vulnerable. We have had a bit of a cold snap in this neck of the woods so last night I rigged a small heat lamp in their coop just in case…. It’s all I can do beyond food, water and as much protection from predators as I know to provide.
Speaking of growing up and moving out beyond my perceived bubble of protection, Jack graduated from high school this week. It was a beautiful and tearful ceremony marking the end of an era for this group of young artists. They move on to be artists, engineers, doctors, musicians, teachers and so many other things beyond their knowing. We are proud beyond belief at how hard Jack has worked to maintain good grades in challenging academic classes while pursuing his passion for music. His relief at being finished is visible in his shoulders, finally out from the vicinity of his ears. He’s attending UC’s College Conservatory of Music this fall – a great school that so many students travel from all parts of the world to attend. We are fortunate to have it just in our back yard here in Cincinnati and so Jack will just be across town. We are all thrilled to keep him close at hand for a few more years (especially his little sister) and he is stoked to actually know a bit of what his life will look like in the coming years. Limbo is hard on a kid and this last year or so has worn on all of us. And yet, we’ve managed to ride the wave without falling off and somehow we are keeping up. With the beautiful dailyness of little things like chicken chores and garden digging, we are finding our way through the grace and complexity of the Big Things.