Alexandersmap

    Tag: Snowshoe Hare

    • Each Leap

      It’s funny how things cluster together. Bursts of activity that lump together depending on the place that you’re in emotionally, physically, developmentally. Like jumping rock-to-rock to cross a stream, these places are where we land at a given moment in our lives.

      Some are easy to identify: “student” to “early career” to “committed relationship” to “parent” are all leaps we’re familiar with. But there are other, smaller leaps that come to mind. Over the last year I’ve had clusters of activity – hiking, chasing waterfalls, devouring poetry, home improvement projects, etc. that consumed me for a time and then I was on to the next thing for a while. Those waterfalls are still calling, just as mountain peaks are, it’s just not their time right now.

      Each leap lands you in another place in your life. Each leap changes you forever. I’ll never be who I was before I had children, nor will I ever be the same person as I was before I read The Summer Day or saw a snowshoe hare sprinting through the snow on the summit of Mount Moosilauke or a hundred other leaps large and small that have brought me to this particular landing spot.

      Each leap brings us further across the stream, further from who we once were while closer to what we might be. Knowing we’ve changed, and fully aware of the risks, we must choose which leap to take next. Sometimes we get wet, sometimes we reach a dead end, and sometimes we reach a landing spot we never dreamed of getting to. There are lessons in each.

      At the moment I’ve landed on a series of home improvement projects that demand the usual investment of time and money. But I’m already plotting my next leap, and have an eye on the one after that too. All while the characters in my life are making their own leaps, some drawing closer, others moving further away. And this is as it should be. The stream keeps flowing, even as we leap from stone to stone.

      Nothing ever has been or ever will be the same. You can’t just sit on a rock in the middle of the stream forever. You’ve got to leap again. So make it a good one.

    • Encounter with a Snowshoe Hare

      The snowy and windy summit of Mount Moosilauke wasn’t a place to linger long. We’d summited and were about to head down below tree line to have lunch when I saw some rime ice building on a cairn and took my iPhone out to snap a couple of pictures of it. Just then I heard a shout from a couple of hikers nearby and a flash of motion. One of my hiking buddies shouted “It’s a Snowshoe Hare!” and a quick glance confirmed it was indeed. With the camera already on I was able to snap a few photos as the hare bounded around me and towards the cover of trees.

      Snowshoe Hare

      The Snowshoe Hare, with the excellent Latin name Lepus Americanus, is native to New Hampshire and loves throughout North America’s colder regions. Its hair turns from brown to white in the fall, triggered by the change in light just as leaves are. The hare I saw looked huge, but it was probably about 5 pounds, which is on the heavier side of their weight range. The distinctively huge rear paws act like snowshoes to launch the hare forward. It was literally born to run in snow.

      As we descended from the summit we wondered what the heck the Snowshoe Hare ate in winter. Looking around there just wasn’t much edible stuff around. According to a State of New Hampshire survey on the animals, they eat up to 2/3 of a pound of “woody browse” per day, and also re-ingest their soft droppings…. yum. May have been better to leave it a mystery.

      Seeing a Snowshoe Hare running through snow in the wild is absolutely thrilling. The only thing more thrilling would have been seeing a lynx or fox chasing after it in a high stakes race. Nothing like that today, just a bunch of appreciative hikers buzzing about the blur of white fur that graced us with a speedy show. And it proved that when you get out there you may just see something amazing.