The Leaping Hare
Monday morning. It’s cold, we had snow again in the night and there’s a bitter wind. My feet slip on the icy road and so I step onto the verge, frosted leaves crunching underfoot. I’m late this morning, it’s almost 7.30, the sun is up and the sky, heavy with snow is tinged pink in the distance. I turn into the woods, a subdued chatter among the birds as I make my way up the hill, promising myself…
View On WordPress












