Last evening, as I enjoyed a frozen fruit bar in the shade of a large elm, a young cottontail emerged from a shrub line, nibbling its way across one of our "lawns." It was the first I have seen on our property since our resident fox annihilated his/her relatives; perhaps this was the pioneer I have hoped would arrive.
While I was glad to see the cottontail, always so placid and endearing, I could not help but worry that it may not make it through the night. Having observed nature for most of my life, I should not be susceptible to such emotional partisanship; after all, predator-prey relationships are at the heart of nature's cycle and, like it or not, she is not sentimental. Who am I to deny the fox a meal? Need we humans always root for the potential victim (as nature documentaries so often demonstrate)?
The familiar sound of a kill came in the pre-dawn hours and I had my answer. As if to make a point, a great horned owl hooted in the background.
