Easter 1987 we were roasting hot dogs at a campfire on the top of a hill between Boerne and Fredricksburg, Texas that was strewn with limestone rubble. The sky was dim, not quite long enough after sunset to be truly dark. Sparks were dancing above the wood in the fire, and there was lots of noise from my cousins and family and toddler around the fire ring.

A jack rabbit lean and aging - white around the eyes and face - slowly jumped past. 'Hey! Look at that!' was about the only comment that acknowledged his presence, and the partiers went back to talking and eating and drinking. The jack rabbit passed on by, apparently unafraid. He found a spot between the prickly pear and the sweet agarita. As I stood near, and the others cavorted around, he sat. The jack rabbit had a great stillness. I can still see his silhouette.

Not many days passed before we were surprised to learn of a second child on his way. The two memories - the jack rabbit and the good news - go hand in hand in my mind.