The sun was beginning to set in the meadow near the woodland. Mrs. Cottonatail’s dark eyes opened. She saw a tiny field mouse scury through the clover. Nearby a butterfly landed on a buttercup. Mrs. Cottontail blinked her eyes and wiggled her nose as she looked at the wild raspberry bush growing near the edge of the woods. She needed to keep her eyes on that bush.

        At dawn, she had chosen a patch of tall grass and weeds to hide in for the day. It was not far from the raspberry bush. All day long she had dozed for only a few minutes at a time. She had hardly moved except to wiggle her nose or twitch her whiskers. She hadn’t even wiggled her ears!       

        She looked again at the raspberry bush. It was not dark yet, so she closed her eyes again. She sat so still that her brown fur looked like part of the tall grass. No enemy must find her or she would become their dinner. Then who would watch the wild raspberry bush?

        Soon it was dark. Yellow moonlight shone over the meadow. Mrs. Cottontail gace three short hops and then sat up on her hind legs to look around. She sniffed the air. The meadow seemed safe. Still she had to be careful. The owls that fly at night like rabbit dinners, too.

        Mrs. Cottontail took a few nibbles of sweet clover. She got a drink by licking the dew from some other clover leaves. Then she quickly hopped over to the bush she had been watching all day. Making sure nothing was watching her, she crawled under the raspberry bush. With her teeth, she pulled a soft fur blanket off a fur-lined nest. Inside the nest were four pink-skinned bunnies.

        The bunnies were only one day old and did not look very much like rabbits. Their fuzzy fur was just beginning to grow. They could neither see nor hear. There were only lines where their eyes would be. And their ears lay back flat against their heads.

        Mrs. Cottontail knew that one week from now they would look very different. Their dark eyes would be open. Their ears would stand up straight and they would be able to hear. They would be soft and furry like her.

        The baby cottontails needed their mother, but she could only come to them at night. She was not being lazy or mean. She knew that if she came during the day, she might lead an enemy to the babies’ nest.