Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
So much rain, rain limiting my ability to get outside and enjoy the freedom of wide open spaces, the ground waterlogged and muddy. That said, I’m grateful that I love my house and love spending time in it – cosily pootling about with my two furry beasties, occupying myself with mundane tasks before sitting down in the afternoons to read, write and paint fairy doors for Christmas sales.
On in the background will either be Radio 4 or, often, the TV, as it’s easier to ignore but gives the impression that I’m not alone should I look up or take myself off to the kitchen. Whilst I usually have something deliberately inane and uninspiring on so that I’m not distracted from my task, yesterday it caught me unawares. I glanced up peering over my glasses to see a hare in an open field, immediately sparking a memory.
I was out on a Salisbury plane maybe 20 years ago with my Leonberger, Freyja. She was a marvellous dog, trained as a ‘PAT’ dog and in water rescue – and we were visiting in Wiltshire when I took her up onto the planes after the long drive from London, so that we could both stretch our legs and empty tanks (her not me!) before arriving in time for lunch.
Walking along the wide gap, which fringed the fields towards a wooded area, Freyja suddenly stopped, giving me the signal that we weren’t alone. Expecting to look up and see another dog walker, instead, I saw, not 10 metres away from us, a golden hare; propped up on his long back legs observing us, as we were observing him.
It had been a very hot summer, and patches of tall grasses wafted imperceptibly as bright spots of copper, yellow, and pale cream shimmered through delicate stems. They were a blur of washed-out colour, bleached and dried out by the days that had turned into weeks of sweltering, torrid heat, so unlike the British Isles.
The sun – a bright, fiery orb – had spilt her heat over the fields, turning everything a burnished copper. The unusual colours of autumn were in fierce contrast to the deep, vibrant greens of the trees and clumps of hedgerow that were bursting with life and drinking in the life-giving moisture from deep down below, the water table still bubbling under our feet.
The sky was a bright, unblemished blue, diffused with an unbroken haze of colour that contrasted with the complex patchwork of golden browns, sandy ochres, and deep titans of the ground far, far below it. And, stood out, like a golden casting, was this large, beautiful hare.
As he carefully observed us, the heat glinted off his soft, thick coat; and flashes of silken light clearly defined the supple strength of his body. His ears were large – the tiny hairs at the tips, jet black and downy – and his long hind legs and feet tinged with red gold hues. But it was his eyes which transfixed me. Large and clearly intelligent, they were deep pools of liquid amber that reflected the sun and spoke of his magical properties.
Often used as witch familiars, their speed and agility give the impression that they could simply disappear. His eyes displayed a magical wildness that spoke of ancient times and hidden dreams. As he watched us watching him, we were certainly caught in his spell. It was as if time had simply stopped. Our limbs were frozen and breath shallow as we both observed him – the sun beating down on our backs.
Like something out of the Matrix, the hare blinked – his eyes closing for just a millisecond. Then it was as if, in slow motion, he turned, jumping into the air. His body bent to the side and a flash of white tail merged into the distance as he swerved – zig zagging out of sight – across the field and into the woods before we’d even exhaled.
It was a truly magical moment for us to have spent with a truly magical creature and I put my hand down to rest on Freyja’s back, sharing it, as she looked up at me. We’d both been transfixed but I knew she wouldn’t chase anyway. It wasn’t in her nature – she was a gentle giant who made friends with cats, highland cattle, sheep, and even my friend’s pet rat, as she lolloped her way through life, always by my side.
Strange how the memory, once stirred, wakes up, bringing dusty images back into focus through a film of silver-tinged mist. I smiled, the warmth of that hot day once more infusing my limbs as I closed my eyes and reminisced – not only on our encounter with the magical hare but also on the soft, silky coat of my friend, as I felt her fur gently tickle the palm of my hand once more. A large, cold, wet nose lightly prodding my thigh.
I miss her. But then I miss all those that came before and after her, and am so grateful that I knew her. I had seven wonderful years with her before she followed that hare off into the wilderness which, in her case, was death.
Not unhappy but needing a cuddle, I leave my computer and crawl onto the cushion with Arthur. Wrapping my arms around his warm, furry body, I close my eyes and focus on the pattern of his breathing which is our joint contentment.
Laying there, it dawns on me exactly ‘what’ the magical power of the hare is. He’s a time shifter, bringing Freyja back for just a moment so that I could physically feel her presence. Rain or no rain, life is good and as I bring myself back to the here and now, feeling the gentle tickle of Arthur’s whiskers on my face, my hare gently takes back my memories, disappearing back into the past so that, now, I can live in the moment once more.
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.