You almost didn’t see me, did you?
I was still as the grass, a shape among shapes- long ears angled just so, heart calm but ready.
That’s how I live.
Half in the seen, half in the unseen.
I’m the Brown Hare (Lepus europaeus).
Quiet-footed, moon-kissed, and swift when the moment calls.
Let me tell you a little about my world…
A Hare’s Quiet Life
I live among the fields, the hedgerows, the windswept meadows where the trees stand back and the earth stays open. Unlike rabbits, I don’t dig. I don’t live in burrows. I make a small hollow in the grass - a “form” - and that’s where I rest, where I vanish into the landscape.
I’m most active at dawn and dusk, but I watch all day. I see far. My long legs and wide eyes help me scan the horizon for danger, and when I run - oh, I really run. I can leap and zigzag at up to 70 kilometres per hour. You might catch a glimpse of my back legs flashing as I disappear over the next hill.
But I don’t always run. I spend much of my life listening. Waiting. Blending.
Softness and alertness - those are my tools.
Not Your Gentle Rabbit
It’s true, people often confuse me with my cousin the European Rabbit. But we live differently.
I’m bigger, longer-limbed, and live above ground.
I raise my young - leverets - alone, often tucked into quiet hollows in the grass.
And during spring, you may have seen me “boxing” - not fighting, really, just sorting out boundaries and energy and timing. Hare language, if you will.
Some call me shy, but I prefer to say I’m discerning.
Let Me Introduce You to My Cousins
We hares have family in wild places all over the world — cousins shaped by the wind, the cold, the open space.
The European Rabbit - A social cousin who prefers the underground life.
She lives in warrens with her kin, raising young in deep burrows.
She’s gentle, community-minded, and always nibbling at the edges of gardens and fields.
The Black-tailed Jackrabbit - My long-legged relative from the deserts and grasslands of North America.
He’s built for speed and heat — those huge ears aren’t just handsome, they help him cool down.
He’s alert, lean, and vanishes into mirage-like light.
The Mountain Hare - A highland soul, living in Scotland and the north.
She changes with the seasons — brown in summer, snow-white in winter.
She’s smaller than me, quieter still, and moves like a whisper through the heather and frost.
The Arctic Hare - A thick-furred wonder of the far north.
She thrives in deep cold, often seen in groups but always watchful.
Built for snow, she’s a living echo of wind and silence.
A Quiet Kind of Wisdom
We hares - and our cousins - carry something that’s easy to overlook in a loud world.
We don’t call out.
We don’t gather in numbers.
We trust the stillness.
And when needed - we move.
You might think of us as fragile, but we’ve lived alongside humans for thousands of years. In mythology, in art, in the hush of dusk - we’ve always been here.
But now?
We need space.
We need wild edges, rough fields, untrimmed borders, and the kind of land that welcomes those who don’t speak loudly.
If you watch with patience, you might see us at the edge of a field.
Not asking for anything.
Just being.
Before You Go...
Here’s a soft reminder to carry with you:
You do not need to roar to be brave.
You do not need to be seen to belong.
Stillness is not weakness.
Softness is not small.
The hare knows this - and maybe, so do you.
Thank you for stepping quietly beside me. With light steps and long ears, Hare
