Eye to Eye

Daily Photo

When I enlarged his eye, I could see myself faintly reflected.



  • I always liked Jackrabbits when I was a kid. They seemed like such a comical animal, with their skittish zigzag method of running. They were fuzzy and soft and it seemed like they would make a good pet. But I never had one as a pet.

    Jackrabbits are kind of an enigma. The first thing that everybody tells you when you talk about a Jackrabbit is “They are not really a rabbit you know, they are a Hare”. We’ve all heard it so many times that it becomes tiring, but a rabbit is born without it’s eyes open, hairless and helpless, whereas a hare is born with it’s eyes wide open, fully haired and ready to run if it has to.

    Every little kid asks if they are called a Hare because they are born with hair, and the answer is “Nope, has nothing to do with it”. Then the next question is “So, why do they call them Hares”. So while you work on why they are called “Hares“, the next question will be what do they eat. The answer to that will be explained by anyone that has ever left their garden gate open.

    The Jackrabbit is a voracious eater, though it’s likely that you have never seen them eat anything, because they are nocturnal. They eat a lot to fuel their boundfull (pun) energy. They can run up to forty miles per hour. Their only method of selfdefense is to out run their many predators, or dive into the brambles. (Berry bushes, or willows.) They don’t know Karate, and they don’t have Blackbelts.

  • A disreputable looking fellow.

  • When the world became busy, O Best Beloved, Jackrabbit sat still as a mushroom upon a grassy hill and watched the humans’ in their great cold metal shells speed past. Jackrabbit watched with one great brown eye as the moon rose and watched with the other great brown eye as the sun slid quietly, peacefully behind the mountains. She listened with her great long ears to the hush of the breeze stroking the long stemmed brown grass and, yet the men did not pause and hear the earth’s breath or see the sky’s glowing beauties.

    And Jackrabbit pondered long on this sadness. Eventually, O My Heart of Hearts, Jackrabbit gathered together her many children and spoke:

    “The world is wide and lovely but all the colors of man race by without seeing. Each one is filled with a thirst that needs the sight of water lapping endlessly and effortlessly to be quenched and with a rage the needs the gentle wordless chorus of all the beings of nature singing each in their turn in order to feel the cool words of reason rise in their mouths.”

    “So I will take and throw myself in front of their metal shells. Then. O My Sons and Daughters, when men that hurry by see my body no longer racing the wind but lying still upon the ground, they will stop, and, in the stopping, see the light dancing on the grass in the meadow and smell the damp of the dew in the air and hear the sigh of the earth as she quiets beneath the silken dark tent of night. Then their rage will be stilled and their thirst will be ended. Then, O My Many Children, the hands of man will no longer be raised against his mother, the earth, and, instead, he will gently brush the dust of his early thoughtless headlong rush from her green foliage and bring water to wash the wounds he has gouged in her sides.”

    Jackrabbit then touched her nose once more to the sweet damp night grass and savored her last sweet bite. She raised her large brown eyes to the gathering shimmering stars and bent her long ears from side to side to hear one last time the complicated chorus of prey and predator that sings through the night. Then Jackrabbit bounded down the long grassy hill feeling the joy of muscles responding, moving as she willed. Her blood sang as her heart beat in the strong dark rhythm of life. Then, with one last leap of faith, she gazed into the blinding twin eyes of man’s metal shell and gave herself to us.

    O Those of You Who Hear My Words, that man, so long ago, felt his heart rise up in protest when his wheels thumped over the warm body of Jackrabbit. He stopped and peeled the cold rigid shell from his body. Then, full of sorrow for the plight of the small being at his feet, he knelt and gathered her in his arms and carried her to the edge of the road. And there, in the moonlight, his eye met hers and there in the fading moist life, he saw the moon rise and he saw the stars glimmer.

    Then, satisfied, Jackrabbit’s daughters and sons scattered to the ends of the earth with their mother’s words held deep in their hearts. Sometimes, on moonlit nights, when somehow they believe they can help us see, they fling themselves from their world of beauty and bounty under the relentless rolling feet of our cold metal shells.

    And, then, O My Brothers and Sisters, let us be like the man who stopped. And let us see the pale gold of moonbeams splashing over paler grass and let us breath deep the moist night air and listen to the earth settle quietly beneath the silken sky. For then, we honor not only our mother who carries us on her poor wounded back but our sister, the Jackrabbit, who gave her life, as her children continue to give theirs, to remind us that time is not for rushing madly from place to place but, instead, for savoring the quiet of moonlit nights, and the sweetness of spring sunshine on tired shoulders and the taste of warm blackberries picked plump from the briar.

  • Very moving Kym, but that is the first time that I’ve ever heard a story with a Jackrabbit as the Messiah, and having it bring to us natures message.

    Mans brutality toward man doesn’t bother me nearly as much as mans brutality toward the critters. Man deserves much of what he gets. It gets much more complicated for me to sort out mans relationship toward the rest of the world. What cruel work of fate it was to make such beauty the source of our food.

    As the Indians did, I think that each animal that we kill should be honored and respected. I don’t think that any work of fate intended us to kill any animal for sport.

  • You haven’t heard of the Savior Bunny before? She is a cousin to the Energizer Bunny but less long lasting.

    Man’s brutality to man bothers me more than that of Man’s brutality to creatures. It seems somehow more cause for despair that we aren’t even able to empathize with beings who look like us. But I agree that it is “cruel work of fate it was to make such beauty the source of our food.” I often think I should become a vegetarian but I love meat and even feel most healthy when I eat large amounts of it. (How’s that for a weak excuse!)

    And I especially agree about not killing any animal for sport (although, house flies and mosquitoes sometimes tempt me into intemperate murder.)

  • While I’ve seen these guys from a distance many times, I’ve never really seen them close-up. Kinda cute – kinda but great picture, nonetheless!

  • Wow I have never been that close to one of those guys. You have one hell of a zoom or are Snow White incognito.

  • More like one of the Seven Dwarfs, mayhap Goofy?

    Really, I was only about 15 feet away (maybe less, I’m not good with distances.)

  • BTW, I’m thinking the Savior Bunny probably dies sooner than the Energizer Bunny but she comes back to life after 3 days.

  • Next time a jackrabbit races up the road in my headlights, I’ll think of the Savior Bunny (hare).

  • And slow down appreciating the beauty of the world–Right, Ben?

  • Looks like she/he borrowed those ears from the dear photo a few days back!

  • I seem to recall Grandpa or Grandma telling a story of getting a ferocious kick from a jackrabbit one time.

    And not to be critical, but I think Goofy was a long skinny dog, rather than one of the Seven Dwarfs. 😀

  • Lunch!!! Hausenpfeffer for everyone!!

  • We grow them there ears big around here, the better to hear you with, m’dear.

    And you are right, of course, Goofy was a dog and not a dwarf.

    I love rabbit but I suspect Jackrabbit has an altogether different flavor than domestic bunnies.

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