AS Easter approaches and the world turns its attention to mythical bunnies, I’ve been thinking of one magical Easter when I was privy to a very secretive wildlife encounter - a leveret suckling.

I spotted the adult female hare late one evening after she triggered the security lights in the car park at my gallery. I could tell by her posture that she was feeding a leveret and as she moved away a leveret came in to view.

Two nights later it was Easter Sunday and I decided to see if I could watch this encounter up close. I set up lights and cameras in a store room doorway that looks out onto my car park. I also redirected some security cameras so that they monitored the area where I had seen the hare feeding her leveret.

I sat in the kitchen watching the TV monitor that linked to the security cameras. I could see bats hunting moths on the screen and then a car drove down into the valley. Just as it passed its headlights lit up a hare in the road and the hare sprang up onto the verge. I was sure this was the adult female I had seen before and sure enough a few minutes later the camera picked up an eye shine on the other side of the car park.

I set off to the store, which is about as far away as you can get from the kitchen, ran through the utility room, kicking off my shoes as I went so the hare, which would be on high alert, wouldn’t hear my footsteps.

I sped on through the gallery stockroom, the gallery itself, my print room, and on to a second stock room where I eventually sat down and slowly turned on a dimmer switch.

The hare was still there, now less than 10 metres in front of me. And she was suckling her leveret. The air was so still, there wasn’t a breath of wind. I swung my camera around and tried to focus in on the hare but my light wasn’t bright enough and the camera wouldn’t focus. As I turned on another torch light the click alerted her. She walked off, but her leveret pestered her, scampering alongside her long legs.

She settled down again to suckle her leveret on the other side of the car park. It was too far to photograph so I decided to give up and try again another night.

Leverets are born in a “form” or scrape dug into long grass by the adult female. They are just eight centimetres long at birth. Their eyes are open and they already have a coat of long, silky fur. They can walk as soon as they are born but they stay in the form until they are three days old and then, if there is more than one in the litter, they tend to disperse into separate hiding places nearby because it is harder for predators to spot individuals than a group.

As the leverets grown they will chase one another around after the female has gone. This play lasts for a few minutes and is important for their muscle development since they are to become fast runners.

Each day after sunset the leverets return either to their “form” or very close to it to suckle from their mother. Her visits only last for a few minutes so that she doesn’t attract unwanted predators. She usually has three litters in a year and will stop feeding her young when they are about six weeks old.

This hare only had one leveret, which is common for early in the year.

As I watched she finished feeding her leveret and went on to the bank. Then the leveret had a mad five minutes running round the car park at top speed. I could hear its paws clawing at the gravel. It didn’t seem to matter that it had no siblings to chase after.

The adult hare then disappeared out of sight and the leveret went for cover once again. It was a brief visit but truly fascinating one to have witnessed.

Sadly I missed this hare’s subsequent visits, but the experience did inspire a painting, which is what my wildlife watching is all about.

l Robert Fuller’s gallery in Thixendale is open to visitors from 10.30am to 4pm on Good Friday, April 14, Saturday, April15 and Easter Monday, April 17. It will be closed on Easter Sunday, April 16. Screens showing live video from nest cameras hidden in his garden will be available to view.