A Mountain Hare in the Scottish Highlands

Sitting on the mountainside, the hare we had been watching for a while had to do something.  It had been an hour of dozing from him and us, not a twitch or shuffle from him.  In his winter coat he was all too obvious to predators and so staying still between feeding and grooming was the sensible past time. 

Gently he opened his eyes and reached down for a pellet.  Just the one.  Slowly he uncurled himself and stretched.  Folding out his joints from the tips of his toes to the whiskers on his nose. A large jaw flipping yawn was emitted, waking him a little further.

Settling back, still looking a little dazed he thought for a moment before going for a short amble away from us.  Tucking himself away from the changing wind he found a new form, sheltered but with a clear view of his valley and all its goings on.


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