Life in our little corner on Turnbull Place has become a lot more interesting since my new neighbour Jack has moved in.
Jack is a
lagomorph, a prairie white-tailed jackrabbit. He has taken up residence in a bushy corner of my front yard dominated by a large, spreading Colorado Spruce, surrounded by tall Karl Foerster and shorter Oat grasses, amidst local drought-tolerant flowers.
The prairie jackrabbit world -- like our own -- has become more fragile and complicated. Moving into the city is a flexible and resilient way for Jacks to adapt to habitat loss and climate change.
In early spring, Jack is out on the boulevard eating green grasses and dandelions. Several times I have seen him out there with a partner. No March Hare madness on display... Jack is discreet. He's just claiming his little patch of paradise.
We acknowledge each other. We share the same space, breathe the same air and are blessed by the same sun. Walking along the boulevard where he is crouched down, he looks at me as if to say, "This is my world too!"
