Hares

We ventured inland again for Sunday's big walk, again returning to Cranborne Chase. What a difference from last weekend though, this morning the sun shone bright and warm from the get go. By what ever metric you choose The Chase is a magnificent landscape full of wonderful sights. A particular thrill for me is the frequency you get to see hares. Always a joy watch, and we'd snuck up close on three hares taking in the morning as we trod the Faulston Drove, what a privilege; of course on clocking us the spell was broken and they were off making for the far field boundary and invisibility. Hares have always held a special importance in spirituality, being associated with the Moon, rebirth, beginnings and growth; three hares forming an endless circle was a common motif of medieval Britain too, whether to ward off evil or solicit good fortune is still debated; I'll take either. 

Hare raising

 I don't remember a year when I've seen so many Hares.

Hare

Spring was certainly about in the Chase this morning. Driving along I turned a corner to find a hare sat nonchalantly in the middle of the road. I pulled to a stop and we both just looked at each other, before I broke the spell by going for my camera.  I just managed to snap a shot out of the car window before the hare disappeared over the brow of the hill. Always a lovely sight, a hare.

The Chase

The Chase was wonderful this afternoon, you could feel your senses waking along with nature. Although the chill winds were testament to the land still being held in winters embrace, you could feel everything champing at the bit, ready to burst into life. All the signs are there. The wheel has turned and change is afoot.  Whist passing through the Iron Age enclosure in Mistleberry Wood (marked on maps as a hillfort, though I don't think it is), beneath the still bare canopy of a veteran tree, we saw three Hares gathered in conference, as we approached they broke in three equidistant directions and made off. You don't get a more potent symbol of Spring than that. Walking on, the woodland of Stonedown Wood, still naked, is alive with bird song and hidden movement, preparations for what's come are under way. Following old paths and winding tracks we come out of cover on the windswept ridge of the chalk downs. The views from the top of the chalk downs are spectacular in which ever direction you choose to look, as you walk along the distant vistas change and closer by secluded valleys are revealed, only to disappear a short walk further. There's magic in this landscape, you can feel it. We're lucky to have such beautiful and magical landscapes on our doorstep.