• soniacookbroen

The wind that binds the ties to changing

Northern wind is cold and in the winter moves the sea like a blanket being shaken after a long summer quietly settled and collecting long months worth of pollens and sand.  There is winter in the north like nowhere else.

Southern summers are akin to these winters in that they both turn on as though a magical hand has moved a switch to the universe.

Green green everywhere and everything is suddenly illuminated in vibrant green and growing so fast before your very eyes and at your fingertips, the buds of new life in all directions, boundless possibilities.

Spring the time for Easter to celebrate fertility in all things, and in thus celebrating, we chose to worship the benevolent bunny, of course.

 The Easter Bunny, noble rabbit whom I saved from the rapture of house cat inflicted doom, and not one week out from his day of fame and thunder.  Celebrating said holiday at father-in-law’s house and in post lasagna eating state a squealing is heard from the marsh. Is this a bat? we wonder aloud unanimously. No, not a bat at all, but furry puff ball culprit feline has scampered to the swamp with some poor innocent creature of the night. I, feeling heroic and being partial to the smallest among us on the food chain, decide it is my humane duty to rescue my distant rodent-cousin from the clutches of kitty chow.  And afterall I find no rodent but a true bunny, not a white mutant eyed, albino vampire bunny. Indeed this is the lovely gray and innocuous wild bunny, not but a fortnight old cornered amidst some houseplants and  as previously stated, portly kitty licking it’s grimacing chops at the prospect of having rabbit for what would have had to have been his fourteenth meal that day. And I will tell you that rescuing sir Easter was not the popular choice. No, I had to stand against great protest and find my own moral compass in this most harrowing of situations! Ah but the little bunny came to me and I let it down in a little straw patch which I was later told was home to snakes.  Good luck oh little bunny, for it is not strength which was bestowed upon you but speed and godspeed I bid you.

Bunnys apparently carry a horrifying array of diseases by the way as do all creatures who inhabit the outside. This explains the disgust and reluctance many people have at interacting with wildlife when it actually is occurring in it’s natural environment. We humans however are the pinnacle of safe for consumption.

I wonder if we will have a holiday in our honor one day? What will they put in these baskets? hmmmm, something to think about…