Meeting the wild gaze

Last night under a vast moorland sky I saw a creature I have been waiting to see all my life.

Now I am going to make a huge admission here and one which will probably have a lot of you nature lovers gasp in horror! I have really never been that overly fussed by hares. When I started discovering the type of artwork I love I quickly realised that the style I admire is often heavily hare influenced. As a typical Scorpio it made me feel a little nonplussed by them. Not wanting to run with the crowd I would try to actively avoid them but somehow they kept emerging in my sketchbook when I was trying to draw other animals and before long I gave in and admitted to myself that I too had been caught under their spell.

This initial rocky relationship between myself and hares has given me a hidden gift. I tend not to see them as an animal to simply watch and feel humble about like my beloved hedgehogs for example. No, hares make me work for their essence and that has been reflected in the years I have spent trying to see one.

So last night when I finally saw one I knew I was supposed to. I took one photo (hence the blurriness) and spent the rest of our encounter cross legged and still. The excitement I expected never came, instead I felt total respect and reverence, even bowing my head at times to this long eared, long legged beauty. So aware, so wild, so gut wrenchingly free. As my eyes hazed with the dimming light I actually saw a trail emerge that grew as I scanned it backwards to where I was sat. Now this could have been a trick of the light but just for now I'd like to believe I was sat in her resting place, right where the world had intended for me to meet the hauntingly wild gaze of the hare.