As I stepped out the shop door, a rabbit streaked out from under my feet. I stopped in my tracks and backed slowly into the shop. After telling Dad, I sneaked quietly out again so as not to scare more rabbits.
It was a beautiful spring evening. White-crowned Sparrows whistled cheerfully, cardinals called out “Wet! Wet!” and robins sang “Cheer-up, cheerily, cheer-up.”
Walking softly over to the dumpster, I just quietly stood there. My heart was thumping. Something told me to wait and be very still. I looked around for the rabbit I had startled, and look! There he was, his ears sticking up from behind the many tubes lying on the shop parking lot.
Suddenly—Crack! Pop! Something was moving in the underbrush! Out ran two frightened rabbits followed by a fox. The rabbits ran full speed up the shop hill. The fox, not trusting to come too close to the shop, stopped three-fourths of the way up—about thirty feet from me—and looked around fearfully. After studying the wind a second, he looked straight at me! With heart pounding loudly, I stared back at him. Sniffing the wind once more, he turned, trotted down the slope, and disappeared into the brush he had come from.
I stood there a few more moments, awed by what I had just seen.
