Hare and now

Then it hopped over to some shrubs and polished them off in no time, casting a wary glance around now and then. Next it turned its ravenous attention to the adjacent vegetable patch. Now we were sure who was behind those partially gnawed beans and carrots!

After some time the hare appeared sated. With its ears flattened on its back, it crouched on the grass hardly distinguishable, a mottled ball of fur. It seemed sluggish. Was it post-lunch lethargy? Then we realised it was going to catnap 8212; hardly surprising since it was a quiet, undisturbed afternoon with a cool breeze caressing the lawn.

Soon we were treated to the uncommon sight of a well-fed hare dozing amidst our dahlia plants, an ear occasionally flicking off a troublesome insect or two. Hare-brained maybe, but so much like humans enjoying a post-lunch siesta!

What, I wondered, had prompted such a timid and basically nocturnal creature to venture so close to our house in broad daylight, throwing caution to the winds? Was its boldness fuelled by hunger or a craving for some leafy treat in our garden? Or was it the undisturbed ambience? We could only speculate.

Then my elbow accidentally knocked the window-pane. Jolted awake, the hare bounded away in a flash, abruptly ending a fascinating interlude.