Hares 

Hares
 
On a long walk across the fields and tracks around the local villages, Steve and I were privileged to watch several hares – we counted at least seven – chasing around, boxing and mating. These are the first we’ve seen, in any number, this year. They were enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company and were pretty well ignoring the sight of us and our dog, Ned, whom we kept close by so they wouldn’t be disturbed. 
 
 
There is something about a hare, which seems to embody an untrammeled wildness, a free soul. There is nothing cute about them. Their faces seem ancient and full of wisdom.  Many of the old religions saw hares as representing the circle of life. Some believed that hares could re-incarnate, some suggested that it embodied both masculine and feminine elements. In geographically diverse cultures it has been associated with the moon. In Eyptian hieroglyphs, the verb ‘to be’ was represented by a hare crouching over water, representing life/energy. The Easter bunny is in fact a hare, ‘laying’ Easter eggs or the life force. As modern paganism has begun to make sense to so many people the ancient image of the hare has become treasured again.
 
Some time ago I wrote a poem for the hares we see around our fields. 
 
Hare Song                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   
O Hare on the field, leap for me,
Leap to the sun – where
She’ll cradle your babies,
Dip them in stardust
And silver their hair.
 
O Hare on the field, dance for me,
Dance rings in the grass;
Take garlands of hawthorn
To the lad who is missing
His doe eyed lass.
 
O Hare on the field, skip for me,
Skip down through the lanes;
Call for the girl child
Who’ll pet you and dress you
In white daisy chains.
 
O Hare on the field, run for me,
Run through the maze
Of the sheaves and the reapers,
With the sun on your paws
In the dust filled days.
 
O Hare on the field, gaze for me,
Gaze deep in the stream,
Where secrets are swirling
And with a bright trinket
You’ll conjure a dream.
 
O Hare on the field, stay for me,
Stay on the hillside;
Watch over the cottage
When clouds hide the moon
And the Wild Hunt rides.
 
O Hare on the field, summon me,
Summon me tonight;
The woods are in darkness
But whisper a welcome
As we pass out of sight.
 
O Hare on the field, walk with me,
Walk facing the moon
By rowan and ash tree,
Till I see through your eyes
And our shadows are one.
 
 JJ                                             

A beautiful hare which Steve drew for me a couple of years ago.