Hare Products

There is a first time for everything and I have  been very privileged to have seen an ancient, primeval ritual in progress that puts a true perspective on nature, life, existence and being.

Yesterday, according to my office work appointments diary was the first day of Spring. The consensus is that it could even be today. Some will not accept the change of season until the clocks change to British Summer Time. The diary announcement  may have just been a page header required by the editor because it appears that nothing momentous or remarkable happened on the 19^th March in history apart from Winnie and Nelson, Andrew and Fergie getting divorced , Phoenix in Arizona got its own area code and the Japanese cooked the largest omelette made out of 160,000 eggs.  It is not that sort of diary, to encourage gossipy speculation, tittle-tattle and to give recipe ideas.

 The arrival of Spring is represented by many things. New green shoots also symbolic of optimism and hope for the economy, yellow headed daffodils, catkins and early blossom amongst the otherwise dormant looking treelines, Council Tax Bills, the next personal commitment to exercise and healthy living, a thorough purge of homes, material possessions and clutter in a frenzy of cleaning.

The first alleged day of Spring as we shall call it started quite normally. The early mornings are much better in mid to late March with the emergence of natural light at around 6am. It is now more likely to leave for work and return home still in daylight although dependant on the brightness of the sky, cloud cover and prevailing weather. This extension to our perception of the day gives energy and determination to do more after the dismal and depressing days of the two preceding months.

 Moving about the house in the early hours so as not to wake the rest of the family is so much easier. Given a general increase in temperature I look forward soon to starting my day with that first and best cup of coffee sat with the patio doors open and with a view down the garden. I can well imagine the same reception being given to the new season by our very distant ancestors. Perhaps more from a viewpoint of not being afraid any more of the dark , foreboding times when even a solar eclipse or strange shade of colour or size of  moon would cause much anxiety and thoughts of doom. Just substitute the mouth of a cave and primitive landscape for my more comfortable, sheltered and heated back living room. 

Everything has more optimism in the Spring- I am writing this just before the UK Budget announcement so reserve the right to change my mind- and this is no more apparent than in nature.

As I completed my work appointments in the City Centre and suburbs I looked forward to a nice long drive up through the rolling Wolds countryside to a job in Malton. The route is one where it is quite possible and indeed normal to meet or catch up with very little other traffic apart from large leather clad  bikers and a few army driving school lorries. With no significant disturbance or perceived threat from humans you do tend to come across unsuspecting wildlife enjoying the freedom of the open fields, verges and country roads. My favourites are the stoats which shoot out of the hedgerows as though attached  to a piece of elastic stretched across the carriageway from the opposite side. In recent days a fox has stared me out from it’s vantage point on a traffic island, a deer has been caught briefly in my headlights, rabbits have grazed on the verges nonchalantly as though they feel they are invisible to man.

Just north of Wetwang I came across the wonderfully stirring sight of three large Hares cavorting about  towards the middle of a cultivated field. As one of their number separated from the group the other two stood up on their hind legs and started to throw punches at each other. They were wholly engrossed in the combat , not knowing why but assured that it was something they just must do.

I was shocked to learn that the life expectancy of a Hare is only 3 to 4 years.

In March they are perfectly entitled to be understandably mad.

(Written a couple of years ago)