Three sightings:
There, moving, now moving away, through the aspens, up the slope and away into the ever thinner air, ears pricked forward, gray and almost the size of a wolf, almost.
Shadow on the roadbed, big as a hawk. We look up for the raptor but see a raven hanging in the air, low in the hot breeze. Perhaps he is the shadow cast by a hawk still higher up, but it is too bright to see.
They see us when we see them, and one raises the alarum: yipyipyipyipyipyip. Little tan harelike forms dash for the burrows like sailors going below, on the double. Movement on the surface! Dive! Dive! Dive!
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What a great collection of sights. I picture your little tan forms wearing little tan cable-knit sweaters, like sailors in Das Boot. But the one raising the alarum seems to me an anachronistic one: perhaps he wears a floppy hat with a feather in it, carries a pike.
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