Mad as a March Hare

by Sylva Fae

First Encounter

We have a hare living in our woods – I know because I have made his acquaintance in the most inconvenient of circumstances….

Our woodland is just a peaceful getaway from real life and our campsite is just a space between the trees to pitch our tents – no mod cons, no fancy shelters, no running water, and no toilets! Should we need to ‘go’, we do as the woodland creatures do and find a quiet spot. It was in one of these personal moments when I first encountered our hare. I was crouched down, hidden by leafy ferns, my trousers round my ankles…I put my hand down to steady myself but instead of cool earth, my hand sunk into warm fur. For a second, but what felt like an eternity, my brain processed the fact that I was not alone and I was sharing my private moment with some (as yet unknown) creature, and a big one at that. Shock took over, I squealed, jumped and attempted to get away…. The creature obviously went through the same thought process, as it matched my squeal, leapt high in the air, then bounded off through the undergrowth. I watched the hare’s speedy, yet graceful, getaway, from my inconvenient face planted position. Having my trousers round my ankles had rather hampered my exit, unlike the hare who bolted the length of the bluebell bank in seconds.

Although startled by the experience, I did feel honoured to have had a close encounter with such a majestic creature. I did some research and found that I’d accidentally disturbed the hare sleeping in a ‘form’ – a shallow depression in the ground that allows the hare to lie camouflaged amongst the foliage. Hares live above ground and don’t dig burrows like their cousins the rabbits. As I discovered, when a hare is disturbed, it initially lies still, hoping to go undetected but if an enemy gets too close, it bolts at top speed. With its long hind legs and sleek body, it is built for speed and can get up to speeds of 40mph, making it Britain’s fastest land mammal. It makes its escape by outrunning pursuers, swerving fast and zigzagging through the countryside.

Dusk Hare

I didn’t see the hare again for a long time, but my husband had many encounters with him. Like a hare, my husband is a solitary woodland wanderer. He potters, axe in hand, checking for wind-felled trees, collecting firewood and tinder, and generally getting some peace and quiet away from our noisy girls.

Our hare probably recognises a kindred spirit, appearing at dusk to watch the antics of the human who shares his home. He sits, appearing calm, but poised to dart off. He watches from a safe distance then goes off on his nightly rounds, heading down to the field to graze.

My husband often gets lost in his own thoughts when he is wandering through the trees, or chopping logs. He’d often describe the sudden sensation of being watched, not a spooky feeling, just an awareness that he was being observed. If he turned around to look too quickly, he’d catch only the flash of something disappearing into the darkening undergrowth, but if he pretended not to notice, and slowly edged around, he would see the regal figure observing him. Even in the fading light, the hare’s silhouette is quite distinctive with its long, blacktipped ears, poised and listening. Hares can mainly be seen at dawn and dusk when they leave their form to feed. They prefer a mixture of woodland and farmland as their home ground. Our little unruly woodland, surrounded by fields is therefore the perfect habitat for our dusk visitor.

Mad March Hare

Hares have acquired a reputation for being mad, mostly due to their antics during the breeding season. The madness is a spectacle to behold, on a brightly moonlit March night as the hares race across fields, leaping and turning in mid-air to suddenly bolt in the opposite direction. Frequently, they meet raising up on their hind legs to ‘box’. It’s a chaotic dance but the madness has meaning. The females lead the dance, being the ones who choose a mate. Eager males follow the females, matching their twists and turns as they sprint away. Occasionally, they break to see off rival males, then continue the chase. Should the male get too close, the female stands on her hind legs, striking out with her forepaws. She forces the male to defend himself as they box, leaping and twisting in a chaotic courtship. Only males that can demonstrate tenacity and stamina will be permitted to mate. Although their courtship antics are more visible as winter brightens into spring, earning them their title of March Hare, hares are fertile between February and September. They can have four litters of four leverets a year, which are raised by the females. This, together with the elaborate courtship displays, has earned them a place in folklore as icons of fertility.

Moon-Gazer

The symbol of the moongazing hare is a familiar one; it dates back to ancient times and spans many cultures. The serene image, often depicted by artists, symbolises fertility. In some pagan cultures, moongazing hares were believed to bring abundance and fortune, and signal new beginnings and growth. In other cultures, the peaceful image was used to symbolise purity.

The ancient Egyptians believed that hares were linked to the cycle of the moon, which was viewed as masculine when waxing and feminine when waning. As such, hares were believed to be androgynous, shifting back and forth between genders with the changing of the moon.

Since ancient times, many cultures have claimed to see an image of a rabbit or hare on the moon, which probably sparked many of the myths, including hares being a messenger for the moon deity and goddess of the spring, Ostara. Eastern European legends tell of shape-shifting dragons, like Zmey turning into a hare, and the dragon Koschei the Deathless who has his strength hidden inside of a hare. Hares feature frequently in myths and folklore. Their speed, courtship rituals, magical shape shifting make them ideal characters to weave a story around. Whether portrayed as wily and mischievous or serene and wise, the hare is an enchanting creature of myth and legend.

Hares in Literature

There are several famous hares in children’s literature, and probably one of the earliest was Aesop’s fable of ‘The Tortoise and the Hare’, in which the hare’s speed is a key feature of the story. Probably the most famous is Lewis Carroll’s March Hare from the ‘Alice In Wonderland’ stories – where the hare is depicted as a slightly mad and unpredictable character. Hares even feature in modern day books, like Ronesa Aveela’s, ‘Dragon Tales from Eastern Europe’, where hares play a part in dragon myths, adding to their mystical reputation. I have featured our hare in one of my stories already, and he is due to make an appearance in my current work-inprogress. I often draw inspiration from my woodland and its creatures and our hare deserves a story.

A Hare’s Blessing

One thing that all the many myths and stories agree on, is that hares are special creatures, and seeing one is a good omen. I’m thankful that hares are protected in the UK under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, 1981, allowing our resident hare to dwell safely in our little woodland paradise. Sadly, we’ve been unable to get to our woods of late (the dreaded lockdown) so we haven’t seen our hare for a while. Our last visit was a memorable one though.

I was sat on a log bench at the side of the campfire, whittling a spoon with my penknife. My husband was quietly knelt at the fire, building it ready to cook our evening meal. The children were off down the valley somewhere, their voices drifting in on the early evening breeze. All was quiet and peaceful. I glanced up to see my husband gesturing slightly, he put his finger to his lips and looked over to the tent. I followed his gaze to see our giant hare casually check out the tent. He then calmly ambled over to the campfire and paused, looking directly at us. He bowed his head, then quietly and confidently lolloped into the trees.

His visit was a blessing. He was as at ease with us being there as we were with him. In that moment, a level of trust was shared and we felt uplifted by the experience. Any close contact with wild creatures is uplifting, but there is something otherworldly about hares. They have an air of magical serenity about them, so it’s no surprise they are intrinsically woven into ancient myths and legends.

Sylva Fae is a married mum of three from Lancashire, England. She has spent twenty years teaching literacy to adults with learning difficulties and disabilities, and now works from home as a children’s writer and illustrator.

Sylva has published several children’s books and also writes a blog, Sylvanian Ramblings. Her debut book, Rainbow Monsters won the Chanticleer Best in Category award. Discover more about Sylva on Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/sylva-fae/