The Hare Who Looked At The Stars

Digging up old stories and retouching them.

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He walked past the meadow, into the woods. The birds had told him to go there. The setting sun colored the valley walls around him a bright red and he counted one, two, sixty streams of water gushing down the face of the valley.

Why this place? He wondered.

A swallow flew past and told him to keep going. He walked on, stepping past the broken branches and through the dead leaves. He heard whispers.

It was a small burrow in the ground, underneath a huge tree root, nearly covered by brown leaves.

A little rabbit with dark grey fur peered out. Hello? He said, hoping he was not disturbing it. The rabbit poked out further, cautious yet curious.

Is it you? He asked it.

The rabbit stepped out now, no longer hesitant. It walked up to him.

You wanted to hear a story? The rabbit whispered. He nodded his head, bent down and looked into its eyes.

I do not remember much; only what my ancestors told me, said the rabbit.

Go on.

His name no one knows. Perhaps he never had one. But we called him the Hare, for that was what he was. He lived here, in these woods and had many friends. A swallow, a fox, a squirrel, even a frog.

Keeping silent he listened as the rabbit continued.

He was brave and went to many far away places and helped rid these woods of dangerous creatures. The rabbit paused. The listener took the opportunity to ponder its words.

Did you see a meadow as you came here? It asked. He nodded. There is a tree there, a single tree in a field of flowers.

Yes, I saw it.

The hare would meet with is friends there and they would share stories with one another.

And the rabbit told the story of the Hare and his adventures.

He kept silent for awhile, but then wondered out loud. I do not understand though, he said, why they say this Hare is so special.

The rabbit thought for awhile then started.

Once before the sun rose the Hare looked up into the dark sky, looked up at the stars. He said something we never understood.

What did he say?

He said, Are they not beautiful?

Hearing that he laughed. Thank you dear rabbit. I understand now. With a smile on his face he stroked its soft fur, rose and walked away.