to the rabbit hole

Whilst we all endured the first lockdown situation, when we were uncertain and apprehension clouded our habitual practice, the urge to roam was unbearable. I could only walk the familiar pathways of my Birmingham home area, treading the same ponderous footfall every day … just for air, to get out, to survive. Carefully avoiding contact with others for fear of invading  their guard and becoming victim to unrelenting rage; masked, wrapped and tiptoeing quietly in case the corona monster got me.

Those walks opened my senses for Nature does not pay any heed to our emergency and flourishes and blooms without regard. As the council workers were also in lockdown I watched daily as grass grew … and grew. Verges and hedges I had known since my childhood transformed into unfamiliar, sculptural skyscrapers. Miracles of open mouthed surprise at every step.

And below, at the base of these new estates of nature, I could make out tunnels. A generation of rabbits had exploded into my locality and created mazes of appealing getaways … and there I was drawn to explore and disappear with them.