On the steep trail up Humbug Mountain, on the Oregon Coast, on the last day of June. I came around the bend and stopped – there they were.
They really paid me no heed whatsoeverAs they went about doing what rabbits do in the springtimeIt was all happening so quickly but at the same time it felt like slow motionWith no holds barred, obviouslyAnd then there were moments when everything seemed to stop, or pause, or freeze. Just for a few microseconds. With their ears up, hearing everything.And then they started again, becoming a blur once more.At times horizontal, at times verticalAnd totally into it.agile, soft, furry wrestlersmasters of rabbit capoeirafinally they retreated into the bushes, their own leafy boweronly to reemerge for one final twisting, turning gyration à deux, then disappearing for good