Very early on New Year’s Day, staying with close friends in the Scottish Highlands, I saw a Snow hare. Here is what I wrote in my journal at the time:
As the three of us drove back to the cottage, a beautiful white snow hare suddenly appeared in a field to our left – as if summoned by sympathetic magic and the bright spark of hope conferred by every New Year. She felt like a gift, a sign, a message. There she was, a moon-coloured creature beneath a stunning half moon and the pale draping scarf of the Northern Lights, appearing to a writer: symbolic, touching and reassuring.
She zoomed out of her field, a nervous streak of lunar rays condensed into soft warm fur – and, zigzagging in front of us for a while, flowed like a little moon-wave up the frosting bank and into another field.
I felt honoured by her presence.