e. mayAnd then it was May. And my bunny died too suddenly for words. And it was awful. But also, things bloomed and life blossomed and the light and the sun came out and they bathed my days with warmth and comfort. We celebrated five years together, in the woods, where the wild things grow and where our bunny was laid to rest under an old oak tree in a patch of the stinkiest most wildest garlic ever. And then it was summer.