for 12. 4. 2020

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In a light spring snowfall in mid-March, on the edge of a ponderosa pine wood, an Easter hare trying to think about preparations for her big day was interrupted again and again by fragments of frozen water drifting into her elegant long ears. What to do? Tilting her head, flapping and criss-crossing those ears like chopsticks or scissors, or whirling them about like helicopter propellors, did nothing to keep the annoying snowflakes out of them. She would just have to outrun them, she decided. Watchfulness, running and leaping, more gracefully than any dancer in the corps of the Kirov  or Bolshoi Ballet, are not merely the best but only defences of any hare or — if we must be formally accurate about her species — any black-tailed jackrabbit or Lepus californicus. 

She rose to her paws and took off … 

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