Friends, for some of us, it’s that bunny-stuffed season again, isn’t it? And as a matter of fact, I’m a bunny fan myself. This time of year, when spring’s flashing me its big blue eyes, I seem to get followed by bunnies. Even just walking down the path in our front yard, bunnies appear from nowhere, noses quivering, checking me out, possibly deciding whether to steal my carrots. I find it delightful.
In my own life, the bunnies are a reminder that I live in an enchanting place. I’m very fortunate. I’m with the human I’m in love with in leafy surroundings near graveyards and peace. And bunnies. They make zero noise. They take up zero space. And they have a habit of lolloping along a few steps behind me as if they know I’m going somewhere bun-significant.
Or again, maybe they’re doing carrot crime.
While I love romances, I also recognize that romance is something I carry inside me as an act of self-love. When I love myself and am faithful to myself, like a bunny lolloping happily at my side, that can be as romantic as The Man with an armful of roses.
And if he brought me an armful of bunnies, I wouldn’t say no.
Happy bunny season, friends!
Romancey Pants 