Afternoon walk with Rabbit.

He did not what to do when the door flung open, a fawn and its mother with eyes so brown are caught sitting underneath Rabbit’s favorite tree. He barks and makes his presence known, This is my home, that is my tree. I stand there at the other end of the leash, amazed at the encounter. I step silently inside the house, gently pulling Rabbit back into the house, just in case the fawn starts to cry out of fear. Out here you do not want to make a fawn cry, because you will remember it for the rest of your life.