My household is a twitter with the excitement of the impending spring equinox. The eggs are decorated. The altar is set. Birds are chirping excitedly just beyond the windows. The cats nap happily in a pool of sunshine on the porch. And this morning, in my back yard, I had a face-to-snout encounter with Peter Rabbit, himself, the grand old hare.
I was headed out on garbage detail, and I whipped open the garden gate. There he sat: a huge, powerful, old rabbit. He, of course, bolted the instant he saw me. But when I calmly explained that I wasn't a predator and meant no harm, his ears twitched, and he stood still, pretending, of course, he was an invisible rabbit-shaped stone.
Being the sort I am, I left my garbage bags there and went to do some other outside work, thinking he'd scatter if I left him alone. Nope. He was still there when I returned with a bag of leaves (and garbage! yuck!) that I'd raked from the front boulevard and street gutters. Very slowly, I took the leaf bag and one of the abandoned garbage bags back to the alley. He watched me with large, beady eyes, but must have figured his old stone-trick was working, because he didn't budge. I bid him farewell since I had more to do out front, but when I came back with a second bag... he was still there.
I finally decided it was chilly enough out that I needed to finish up and go in, so I snuck the remaining bags past him. He finally left some time after I returned with the broom that I retrieved from the garage to sweep the dirt from the sidewalk.
Seemed auspicious, don't you think?