Two years ago we moved to our new dwelling. One of the appealing features of the new house was the ten acre field behind the property. It was full of scrubby trees, weeds, vines and wildflowers. At times it was a scary place — a person could envision all sort of mysterious, dangerous, or unsavory activities going on back there. But in the light of day, more the soft glow of dusk, there were the Bunnies. The Bunnies lived in the field and would often escape to our back yard under the fence and help eat the birdfood and an occasional piece of carrot that found its way from my kitchen. The raccoons lived there, too, and the hawks perched high in the cottonwood trees. All of them visited our yard at one time or another.

Our cat, Trevor, used to love the field. Everyday she would leave the comfort of her place on our patio and venture into the wilds where she would practice her feline skills of hunting and stalking. She was an amazing hunter and was so proud of herself. She must have loved us very much because she would bring us gifts almost daily. Most times it would be mice or rats but once she captured a snake and her biggest catch of all was a bunny that was bigger than her. The field took her, however, the day she disappeared. I always looked into that field and knew she was there, somewhere, in her beloved field.

The field is gone. I don’t know where the Bunnies are but I will keep a close watch near nightfall. I know now that Trevor isn’t in the field anymore. The trees are gone along with all the wild growing things and the mystery and beauty of something natural, untouched and doing what God intended for it to do.

Something else will replace the field. We have known for months what it will be. It will be a parking lot. I think they should erect a small memorial for the Bunnies.

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