Below the hill rested a warren of rabbits, sleepily opening their eyes. Dawn had arrived a few hours before, but the north side residents slept in. Chickadees hopped and chirped around the entrance of the warren. Little ears emerged into the warm daylight. The smell of fresh, wet grass raised the family appetite.
Sharp Wolves Call in the night. It is simultaneously lonesome and collective. These wolves suffer a group think of loneliness that blankets that countryside and frightens the prey. The sound of sharp wolves cross over the hill and faintly echoes under it, disturbing the rabbits.
I came this far to tell you of what became of those rabbits beneath the hill. The cynics believe that the humans came to excavate the hill and build condos on it. Would you believe that the sharp wolves haunted the development? Can the rabbits be heard at the legislative hearings? Perhaps coyotes, raccoons, bats and crows will take over things after we’re gone.
I came this far to tell you that the meek shall inherit the earth.