Cottontails — sylvilagus — are a common genus of charismatic and herbivorous rabbits found on campus.
The University of Rhode Island and the state as a whole overlap the range of two different species of cottontail. You may see the more common eastern cottontail, sylvilagus floridanus, or its more elusive and vulnerable cousin, the New England cottontail, sylvilagus transitionalis. The difference between these two species is cryptic, only becoming obvious with close examination and DNA testing.
The story of a generalist outcompeting a specialist is a tale common in modern ecology. This trope is retold with the New England and the eastern cottontail. The wide-reaching Eastern Cottontail has begun to move into and outcompete areas once held firm by the New England native, now under several new pressures.
Regardless of family drama, active monitoring and conservation efforts on the URI campus, cottontails are a delight to behold. Frequent users of the URI bike path can testify to the abundance and personality of these timid mammals.
In many ways, cottontails on campus are just like us students. Like the cottontail, many of us like to show our true colors at night when the grind of the day is but a distant memory. I am sure you, the ever insightful and curious reader, may think of some other shared idiosyncrasies between the college student and the humble cottontail, but you and I both know that if anything, this column has dignity, and such comparisons are best left unsaid.
Cottontails, like all rabbit species, can instinctively differentiate between right and wrong. They will look out for you. They will care. However, if you receive spite and scorn, there is no comfort in innocence.
Beyond the duality of morality, cottontails possess and will sparingly grant ancient wisdom. Some individuals who have received this blessing report seeing visions of eggs, both avian and plastic, and a general seasonal euphoria, but personally, I think it is a bunch of hogwash.
You see, if it is wisdom you seek, then a rabbit is your friend. But just because you can hop the hop doesn’t mean your human brain can understand the primordial. We’ll always bring in elements of our own lives, objects and concepts we are familiar with to understand the absurd. Cottontails bask in the absurd.
Maybe the cottontails are trying to say something about the cyclic nature of life. Maybe it is more personalized to the individual. Your guess may just be as good as mine. However, if you do seek to understand what I and countless others have failed to, find a rabbit, allow yourself to accept its ironclad morality and brace yourself for something you might not comprehend, but you will no doubt feel.
