Negative Space

It was the very end of the year, which meant the dog’s morning walk occurred before full dawn. While the sky had begun to pale towards translucence, night still gathered like a low-hanging fog over the lawns and tangled among the trees’ bare branches. Earnestine pranced and snuffled her way along the deserted street; I followed more blearily, letting the leash pull me forward.

Earnestine paused in front of a lot between two houses, sniffing intently at the grass beside the curb. In the distance, something caught my eye.

At the very back of the lot two rabbits were grazing, lolloping across the lawn in uneven starts and stops. Their figures were barely discernible, like black felt cut-outs against a black screen, as if they had sprung from the soil or formed out of the dark air. They were a part of this landscape; the dog and I were simply visitors.

Earnestine, satisfied with her olfactory investigations, gave a final snort and tugged us eagerly onward, blithely unaware of these creatures shaped from the fabric of the newborn day.

{A note: I do write all text and take all pictures. Please do not reproduce either without my permission.}