It's the end of the world, they said, and we keep saying, Happy New Year! Let's go outside! Let's Occupy Earth! Let's celebrate and love our beautiful world. May we walk gently within the network of life.

I wonder if the jackrabbit gives birth in the different nests, or if she gives birth in one location, then carries some of the infants to the other nests. The jackrabbit post got me to thinking about other critters in our neighborhood. Every once in a while, especially at dusk in the summer, we'd see a tarantula crossing the street. Tarantulas have a scary reputation, but they were few and slow-moving and stayed outdoors. Not very threatening, but they were about 3 inches long - including eight impressive hairy legs! Also, I heard - not sure if it's true - that tarantulas can't easily bite a human. Their bite is designed to stun edible prey closer to their own size. One mild sunny morning, a tarantula was in my path. I looked closely. More than a hundred tiny spiders - perhaps her young? - were riding on her back as she crossed the street.

Jackrabbits are not rabbits but hares. (They're in the same order as rabbits, but different genus.) We used to see both jackrabbits and cottontail rabbits in rural central Texas. Cottontails are cute and fluffy looking. Jackrabbits are longer and leaner. Cottontails are more domestic. They create complex burrows to bear their young. The jackrabbit is a wilder, more outdoor type. They scrape out depressions on the surface of the ground (which was dry and rugged in our area), and bear their young in the open. Their young thus are more matured at birth than the blind, hairless young of the cottontail who require shelter and nurturance. Jackrabbit parents provide their young with little attention. Both hares and rabbits are prey to many other animals such as hawks, coyotes, foxes and wild cats. The fact that they have a high rate of mating and reproduction makes sense for the survival of their species. One bit of information that I read some time back in a reference book about mammals has stayed with me. The jackrabbit creates not just one nest, but several for one birthing. The female gives birth to a few young in one spot, moves on to the next location to birth more, and to the next so that her litter is spread out. If some of the babies are taken by a predator, the ones in other locations still have a chance at survival. Several times, I've come across very old jack rabbits, large, thin, and grayed. They seem to have little fear, and will sit near the campfire or house like a wise great-great-great-great grandparent, a totem or archetype, with deep presence.

when flying within a flock of birds, forward motion has a living rhythm to it. The heart of the flock surges forward this way, then that. No two birds are flying in precisely the same direction, but usually, everybody gets to the destination. Leadership flows from one bird to the next, not in order or for equal time periods, but rapidly, then slowly, then rapidly again, without thought or maps or schedules but rather with timing sensitive to the condition of the flock and its members, and considerate of the conditions of the locale, the time of day, the wind and weather.

would i love you in one life and ignore you in the next because you are old or a different shade of skin or poor or oddly dressed? May this never be.

There's the number of my body index, and the number of my cholesterol. There's the number of years I've lived, and the numbers that come off of scales, blood pressure cuffs, and personality tests. There's the number in black and white on my bank statement, and the number on my credit card bill. I can give a little number on a blood test form or on a stock market page the power to keep me up all night with a sick feeling in the depths of my guts. I have food in the fridge, warmth and safety in my home, and nothing happening in the neighborhood, but the little number on a website or a page of paper can deliver quite a shock. It can spoil my happiness. Ho hum, I tell it.

after a long dry spell, a simple gift of water; and after the rain the glowing green of pine needles, the wet smells of a palette of color burgeoning in the backyard. the sky darkens early; it's Christmas night - Jupiter and a waxing moon sail in the east above tree limbs and foliage happy in the breeze, having had their fill of water

"Would you like a glass of sherry?" he asked.

"They don't give us sherry until we're airborne. By then it's much too late." (Anne Tyler, The Accidental Tourist)

it's winter solstice, but not the end of the world - welcome to grandfather's shirt.