The Hare in The Salt Pig ...

Easter visitors strolled down West Street, past The Rex, towards the High Street - on The Quay, small boys treasured tubs of Purbeck  ice cream - sinewy girls larked about in rowing boats upon the river - Jim Etherington was playing mean blues in The Black Bear - burly dads parked their Rav 4s in Sainsburys' car park - bold sea gulls swooped down to plunder discarded kebabs - the sun shone in the April sky - I remembered hearing Penny Lane for the first time -

I was lucky that day to find a spare table in The Salt Pig - I sighed over The Independent, sipping my latte - the members of the crossword gang were discussing a polemic in The Daily Mail - 

Suddenly I looked up - a picture, hung on the wall, had caught my eye - there, looking at me with mysterious knowledge in his stare, was a hare -

Penny and I had recently seen a hare - we were climbing up the steep slopes of Hambledon Hill - above us, the ancient hill fort was close to the sky - 

Penny had first caught sight of this magical creature - I looked at him, through her binoculars - he lay, basking in the sun, upon the grass - 

I had imagined how it might be, to race over the wind blown hills, past stone circles, under the moon - 

Now, in this crowded eatery, I felt the wonder of that moment again -