It always seems such fun to be a wild animal… but perhaps that’s because you normally encounter them on a lovely day, out for a walk, full of bracing good cheer and the promise of something nice to drink when you get back.
What could be better than being a hare on such a day of plenty? You are elegant, fast and beautiful. Your golden eyes can see 360 degrees without turning a hair, you are sunning yourself in a light that makes your pelage shine sheer gold, you are ready for an exhilarating gallop at the smallest excuse – and quite certain that nothing could ever catch you.
The hare I saw from my desk through the rain-streaked window wasn’t like that at all. It had been raining most of the night and all the morning, and was to continue doing so until dusk. The golden fur was dirty brown, and looked in urgent need of a towel.
He hopped a few steps and grazed a while, because a herbivore needs a good throughput. He stopped and sat, rain-pelted, huge eyes staring about. Then, assured that there was no immediate danger, he dropped his ears and his head and just sat there, wet and getting wetter. There was, after all, no other option. Cold, wet, and thoroughly miserable.
This weather was a threat not just to comfort and good cheer but to life itself. Will he get through it all and have enough left to go mad when the spring advances? I sent him good vibes from the fastness of my hut, and wished I had something to help him. A haredrier, perhaps.
Thank you Simon for making me chuckle
Tried out the new accessible route to the South(?) hide at Minsmere yesterday on a loaned mobility scooter. What a fabulous time we had, with wind gathering and parting the reeds besides us. Lapwings flapped up from the scrapes, big, floppy, large black wings flapping, accompanied by their ‘ peeeeewit’ cries. Memories of childhood bike rides in the lanes of Cheshire, where pastures used to be blackened with flocks of them. Seldom seen now
It is always good to remember those creatures less lucky than ourselves, even if we are fed up of the grey skies, flooded roads and mud!
Thanks Beth
Hi Simon thank you so much for all your recent posts , they have certainly brightened up these dreary wet days for me !
Love it that you can make the ordinary extraordinary … AND add a silly giggle.
Thank you
Thanks for that, Jen
I remember a similar hare-drenching day when I was on leave in south Cumbria a few years ago. That hare was looking more smug though, safely sheltering within a big garden shrub not far from the window I was looking through; originally looking out in despair at the downpour, until I spotted her/him.
I love hares so your post made me sad. But that’s nature isn’t it? Good or not so good.
ps. I’ve learnt a new word, Pelage.
Really enjoying all your recent posts which give me a glimpse of nature and the wild and takes me very nicely from everyday exasperations with life as a teacher (trying to instil a love of all things geography to teenagers)! Loved the haredrier. But if you have a heirdrier, do you also need a sparedrier …
Poor beautiful hare I send her good vibes too – hope she makes it through x
Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear.
Thanks so much for your posts. I’ve always loved wild nature. It’s been life long hobby, and love these posts. But that’s not my point here. I want to know how you write so readably. I’m readably challenged; a research scientist, life-long confined to crisp statement in reports. Do you teach your artistry?