|Flying into Roissy-Charles de Gaulle|
Rabbits? What’s the big deal, you ask. Everybody’s seen rabbits.
Sure, but not grazing peacefully at their warren door only ten feet off the wing of a jumbo jet revving its engines to roar down the runway.
Roissy-Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris opened almost forty years ago. So it's been around a while. And it has a problem. Aside from airline strikes on the ground, flight saturation in the air and stale croissants at the cafeteria. A structural problem.
I thought they were just some kind of urban myth. Over the years I had looked for them on the distant horizon with every take-off and landing. Nothing. Then suddenly there they were, those cute little brown bunnies hopping between the runways, sitting up on their haunches, looking tiny in comparison to my Boeing, and totally oblivious to the din just a few feet away. It seems that they have grown deaf, which I guess is the only way to survive if you live under a runway. Still, you’d think the vibrations would be enough to scare them off. But no, these French rabbits are plucky little devils.
And that’s why I saw them. The rabbits. They had come out to search for something to eat. Maybe some stale croissant crumbs. They sat on their haunches, silhouetted against the dusting of powdered- sugar snow that had brought one of Europe’s mightiest capitals to a standstill for a brief moment.
The rabbits of Roissy.