Mad March

                                                                                                               Photos by Jo Sinclair

Snow is a traitor to wildlife. Hungry foxes, deer and brown hares can be seen a mile off, so I headed for the hills this morning where there was a dusting. I did a U-turn the other day trying to get a look at two brown creatures bounding, but they were gone, leaving me with the thought that perception of scale can often be unreliable when you're gazing at an expanse of field; hares can look big enough to be roe deer.

I'm disappointed not to have seen the first mad March hares of spring. They are on the decline, I fear. I have indelible images in my mind of other snowy springs; I once counted thirty dark, loping blobs on a white field. Another time I saw a gang of fourteen fooling about, so I melted into the background and sat very still. They were completely oblivious and ran within a few feet, racing, chasing and boxing. Today I walked the Roman Road circuit in the fierce cold but didn't see a single one. I hope they were out there somewhere,  hunkered down out of the north-easterly wind that rushed along the furrows fast as a lurcher.