Nick of Time

Rousted by our dog from their grass nest, these cottontail weanlings dispersed and hid.

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I scooped up the frightened babies and snapped these blurry pics—then held them until the hunter gave up and moved on.

 

Two weanling cottontails held in one hand.

I have known rescue like that.

You?

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“He reached down from on high and took hold of me . . . He rescued me from my powerful enemy. . . .”

—Psalm 18:16a, 17a

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Love the outdoors? I can take you there. Short, true, beautiful posts from a PNW naturalist, faith writer and award-winning author.

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