Lush and the Portent

[by J.L. Mackey]

Spending my days at home now. Preparing to move to another state, into the first home we’ve ever bought. Maybe the same one we’ll die in if we’re lucky. Our baby is nearly here and our new jobs are waiting for us. Boxes are everywhere. My wife and I are sharing a desk, sitting opposite of each other. I can’t remember ever being this happy in my entire life. Perhaps the greatest summer my years will see. 

The desk sits against a wall, and I am on the side nearest the window. It looks out upon our small backyard. Ten feet of grass before untamed bushes and a deep gulch. A large mimosa tree hangs across most of the yard, now sagging with the weight of new growth and blossoms that draw bees and hummingbirds. I can’t bring myself to trim it, like defacing some piece of art I had no hand in making. 

Almost every day for the past two months a lone hare has emerged from the dense undergrowth to eat grass for a time before laying down in the splotched shade of the mimosa. He has become our portent. Any day he comes to visit our little paradise is assured to be good. Somehow, the dogs and cat never see him. His carelessness feels like a comedic marvel. Today, a male cardinal comes to land near him. He hops by the hare, who either doesn’t notice, or cannot be bothered enough to care. 

It might be ten minutes or two hours before some mystery urges him back into the dark brush. We will lament his goings and hope that tomorrow brings another opportunity for our amused speculation about his sunbathing ways. Perhaps he is also in the summer of this life, such lush in leaf and spirit as to only be capable of witnessing it, praying for its longevity.