Once upon a time, in the not-so-distant past, there was a beautiful burn pit. It was a bucolic collection of stones surrounded by wildflowers, with a small orchard in the background.
The burn pit was a meeting place, a spot to cook over the open fire, to roast marshmallows for s’mores, and necessarily a place for a once-yearly REALLY BIG BURN.
Included in the REALLY BIG BURN were almost always that year’s Christmas tree, whatever wood scraps and branches might’ve been lying around, and the odd piece(s) of furniture that finally fell into too advanced a stage of decrepitude. We would unceremoniously chuck burnables onto the pile throughout the winter, letting the emerging burn pile grow ever larger.
This was typically at the beginning of the summer when school let out and the kids would set their homework and projects for that year alight.
But about three years ago, for whatever reason, we didn’t have the REALLY BIG BURN. We were changing jobs and doing stuff and just never got around to making it happen.
Then the same thing happened the following summer.
That’s when I really started to think about the fact that, undoubtedly, there would be many creatures using that pile of wood as a home. It would be relatively warm, as well as safe from most predators and weather. So HOW could we, in good conscience, ever light it on fire again? I started to devise ways to scare them off prior to the burn. Maybe I would go out there with my bee smoker and try to smoke them out! Maybe I would…
Dave, unbothered, said simply, “They’ll go somewhere else. They’ll be fine.”
So this year we actually had a giant bonfire planned. We now had three years worth of Christmas trees, wood, branches, and decrepit furniture that we were ready to ignite into flames with some friends.
When that bonfire got rained out, we tried to plan another one and it just never happened.
And THAT’S when we pretty much gave up on the idea.
Fast forward to the other afternoon when the weather was unseasonably warm and the sun was making an all-too-rare appearance. The dogs were going crazy barking and jumping to be let out onto the deck. When I looked to see what had gotten them so excited, that was when I saw the rabbits.
At first I only saw two.
They bounced in and out of an opening at the base of the burn pile in such an easy and practiced way, it was clear they’d been there for awhile.
Then another one came out.
And another.
By the time they were all present and accounted for, there were seven of them all munching happily on the grass.
So it appears that we’ll either a) never have another bonfire at our house ever again, or b) have to start a new beautiful pit in a new bucolic spot with something else lovely in the background.
We’re WAY overdue for s’mores.
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Another gre