There were two dead baby bunnies lying on the edge of the parking lot. They were tiny.
I was thankful for my son-in-law’s attention to detail. He noticed a live one under my van…as I started to drive. I didn’t see it as I slowly pulled away then decided to stop and talk to he and my daughter for a minute. The bunny was exposed, dwarfed by the expanse of the large, nearly empty parking lot. Then he made a dash for cover – under my van again. He huddled closely to the inside of a tire.
My son-in-law tried to coax him out then took the “frighten him out” approach. It eventually worked but not for several minutes. The tiny bunny darted one way then another under the van to try to stay protected. He eventually huddled in the grass among a line of empty trash cans ready to be moved around the property for a large event. I knew he likely wouldn’t survive on his own, yet I also knew direct contact with him lessened his chances.
As I drove away, I smiled at his cuteness and teared up at his loss. I related to his desire to seek out the best place for protection while simultaneously coping with the reality of exposure and vulnerability.
Whether or not you are in the shade of shelter or comfort of soft grass doesn’t define your protection. You can be protected even when in the open with bright sun beating down on you. How you define protection is essential to how you seek it and how you end up experiencing it.