It was a frosty morning when the hares of Hesper Forest became weary of waiting for their great one, Ostara, to rise from her winter slumber and bring some colour to the grey and murky forest. They pranced about, thumping the solid ground in an attempt to wake the Queen of Spring. As the earth rumbled with their purposeful thumps, Ostara finally woke.

“What in the name of snowdrops is all that noise?” she asked, in her sleepy state.

“Rise and shine, O Radiant One!” cried the hares in harmony. “It is time!”.

Ostara yawned and rose from the ground, huge clods of frozen soil dropped from her. She stretched, and as her arms reached up, the grey sky began transitioning to a radiant blue and a warm ray of bright sunshine warmed the forest floor. Purple crocuses began to bloom at her feet and the frosted earth shifted into a dew-kissed glade.

As Ostara made her way through the awakening forest, she cast her gaze upon a little bird lying on the ground below a budding apple tree. She knelt to the floor and scooped up its frozen lifeless body. The animals in the forest looked on in sorrow. Ostara held the tiny bird close to her chest and gently hummed the song of spring. Sounds of birdsong and babbling brooks lit up the dormant forest. As she hummed, the tiny bird in her hands began to transform, getting bigger and bigger until Ostara’s arms were full. The forest animals’ eyes were twinkling with wonder as she presented the majestic creature.

“Friends of the forest”, she announced. “Meet Lepus!”

She placed the hare on the ground in front of her, who stood proud and tall, daffodils emerging from the earth beneath him.

“I am… a hare!” cried the delightful creature. “I am… Superior!”

Ostara smiled warmly. “Not only a hare, my friend. But a hare with infinite power.”

And this is where my story begins. I am Lepus, the celestial Easter hare. The very hare whom everyone mistakes for a bunny. An uncouth bunny! Let me start off by telling you that you are most mistaken if you believe this to be true! The story was passed on through generations and somehow got lost in translation – my guess is that it was manipulated by the forest bunnies. Sneaky little fur balls trying to steal my badge of superior honour!

Now, I can understand why Ostara did what she did. She informed me that she had been ‘lying in’ that year, slumped in her filthy frosted pit, dreaming of silly snowdrops and ball-dancing bluetits. It was freezing and the animals were struggling to find food on the solid floor of the forest. I must have perished from starvation, or perhaps from boredom while waiting. The hares thumped the ground so vigorously to wake Ostara that spring, they suffered from sore hocks for weeks. They even considered lifting her turf duvet and wafting her with the bitterly cold wind. Luckily, she eventually woke.

But what were these ‘infinite powers’? I hear you ask. Well, let me elaborate. I became not only a superior hare; but a superior celestial hare. I became the constellation that is known as ‘Lepus’, the most exquisite collection of sparkling stars you ever did gaze upon. Also, I laid eggs. I don’t know whetherthis was supposed to happen, or whether Ostara, in her half sleep-wake state, simply forgot to change that part of my anatomy. However, being a male bird, I had never actually laid an egg… At least not in pastel shades of rose, lemon, lilac and mint, as I now could.

So, there I was, perched atop a pastel-painted egg, contemplating life’s mysteries. The other animals stared, baffled.

“Is that a bird?” asked the squirrel.

“No, it’s a hare,” corrected the hedgehog.

“But hares don’t lay eggs!” protested the owl.

I cleared my throat, my whiskers quivering. “Friends, I present to you the world’s first superior celestial egg-laying hare!”

The crowd erupted into laughter. But Ostara beamed, her floral crown slightly askew from the squirrel who had dropped out of the old oak tree directly onto her, in a fit of uncouth giggles.

“All hail Lepus!” she exclaimed, straightening her crown. “Your eggs shall bring joy to children and perplexity to naturalists everywhere.”

And so, every Springtime, I dutifully laid my pastel eggs. The woodland creatures marvelled at my artistic flair. “Look, a Lepus Original!” they’d say, displaying my eggs on mossy mantelpieces. Excited children would discover my eggs nestled among the hedgerow and in garden plant pots. I believe one small girl even incubated and hatched one of my eggs, which is where the Jackalope evolved. But that is indeed a story for another time.

So, my friends. The next time someone mentions that uncouth old ‘Easter Bunny’, you can stare at them with a look of dismay, safe in the superior knowledge of Lepus, and the real story of Easter.

A Superior Easter Story

Story and illustrations by Laura Timberley