Boxing Hares

Two very large brown hares were doing anything but relaxing in the sunshine when I looked out of the window this morning. They were close enough to view clearly with the naked eye, but through field glasses I could see every detail. Their ears were erect, the dark brown tips pointing into the air like antennae, and I could see their eyes, flecked with gold and slightly bulging. They seemed to be playing, running around and then squatting together side by side. Then one would turn to the other who would rear up on hind legs and bat out with extended paws. At one point they froze like that for many seconds, one arm each poised mid punch. But what were they doing? This is mating behaviour, a so-called "Mad March" ritual with the sally discouraging the passionate but unwanted approaches of the buck, presumably hoping for a better offer. With temperatures hovering a little above freezing most days it can hardly be the end of the winter. Perhaps the heat of the sun put some pep in the male's steps. In any case the female was having none of it. As spring approaches the pace hots up, with the buck chasing the sally around and around for hours until I can hardly bear to think about it let alone watch. Does he catch her and force himself on her? Or does she give him a black eye and send him about his business? I've never seen the denouement, but can't help hoping it's the latter.

Today is the usual waiting in for the BT engineer who comes but never fixes the problem. Otherwise, yet another Italian exercise book arrived in the post, spurring me on to greater revision and practice. My unconscious theory seems to be to fill the house with books, as if the mere possession of them will turn me into an Italian speaker. I now own seven or eight where I only really need one, and there are four CDs and DVDs. But there's no alternative to knuckling down and learning verbs, vocab, phrases. I love it really, but it's funny how many urgent things must be done first, like rechecking for emails, looking out of the window for hares, and writing shopping lists. If it weren't for these distractions I'd be fluent by now.