Encounters - Hare

Artwork & Words By Nancy Gerrard (@tired__poet)

Part 1: Hare

For most of the walk I’d noticed little but the inside of my own mind, vaguely conscious that around me butterflies danced amongst the wildflowers and cherries dropped fat and sour from the trees. Huge shadows moved across the fields, dimming grey-blue the golds and greens of the crops. I felt the change in temperature as it washed across. Had left dog to her own devices, aware that she was within sight and calling distance. Not that she heeded my calls if she could help it.

She waited for me at the heavy metal gate. Clumsy, I unclipped the chain and it sang against the hollow poles. An unnatural noise, jagged against the chirrup and buzz of the grasses. I slid the bolt back, swung the gate open and we both moved through. At the top of the hill I paused to look down at the path which slipped between fields from where I stood to the bottom. Lumpy concrete and grit, with a strip of grass running down the middle. When the weather was wet it grew seaweed-like blobs which made it slippy to walk on. It had been dry, so I went on my way without care for where my feet landed. Dog by my side.

A movement a little way down in the field, low to the ground. Only small but enough to pull me out of my head again. Beside me, dog lay down, a sure sign something compelling was coming. Her nose pointed at whatever it was. A rabbit, I thought. But not round enough. It came hopping towards us, lanky, even for a hare. Adolescent. Perhaps that was why it loped towards us so confidently, until it was less than five metres away. I could see the whiskers twitching on its wise, gaunt face and its eyes stared at us casually, interested.

I clipped - snap - the lead onto dog while she wasn’t looking. Didn’t want her chasing away the magic of the moment, I’d never seen one of these creatures so close before. I was confident it would outrun her but I didn’t want to find out how far she’d get first. We all stared. I at the hare, hare at the dog, dog at the hare, hare at the human. I pulled dog forward a little, slowly, to see how near we could get. The hare was frozen, still staring. We inched. At around three metres it sprang like a mousetrap and took off across the fields. I braced myself against dog as she ran out of lead, chasing.

Abundance, prosperity and good fortune. Celtic symbolism. When we got home, a letter was waiting for me on the mat.