Maureen Clark and Paul Madden have always known their land was more than just a place they owned; it was a place that worked. A place where wildlife moved quietly through the trees, where seasons shaped the forest, and where careful attention could make a lasting difference.
When they began learning more about snowshoe hares and the challenges they face in today’s changing landscape, Maureen and Paul saw an opportunity to help.
Snowshoe hares depend on dense, young forest and thick understory cover to survive, habitat that has become increasingly scarce as forests mature and land uses change. Snowshoe hares are uniquely adapted to northern climates. Their oversized hind feet act like natural snowshoes, allowing them to travel efficiently across deep snow where many predators struggle to follow.
Each fall, their coats shift from brown to white, providing camouflage against winter snow. As spring arrives, that white coat gradually fades back to brown, blending into leaf litter and emerging vegetation.
Spring is also the start of their breeding season. Females can have multiple litters between spring and late summer, and young leverets are born fully furred and able to move within hours, relying on thick ground cover for concealment while their mothers return briefly to nurse them.
Understanding how closely these hares are tied to young forest habitat made the need for action clear. Rather than waiting for nature to recover on its own, Maureen and Paul chose to take action.
With expert guidance from forester Kellen Murphy, they set out to create habitat tailored specifically for snowshoe hares.

Using whole trees, they built carefully placed brush piles across their property, informed by research and best management practices. These structures mimic the dense, low cover found in young forests and provide vital escape routes, resting areas, and protection from harsh winter winds.
Snowshoe hares spend much of their time concealed beneath thick cover, emerging at dawn and dusk to feed on twigs, bark, buds, and woody vegetation such as willow, birch, and maple.
“We’ve always felt a responsibility to care for this land,” Maureen and Paul shared. “Creating habitat for snowshoe hares took careful planning but seeing the forest come alive and knowing we’re giving wildlife a real chance to thrive
makes it all worthwhile.”
The results are about more than one species. Snowshoe hares are a cornerstone of northern forest ecosystems and a primary prey species for animals like bobcats, foxes, coyotes, and even great horned owls. When hare habitat improves, the benefits ripple outward, supporting a more balanced and resilient forest community.

The brush piles on the property are more than cozy hideaways for snowshoe hares, they’re part of a much larger effort.
Protected by a conservation easement held by Tug Hill Tomorrow Land Trust, their land lies at the heart of the Wildlife Connectivity Project, a partnership of local, state, and national conservation groups working to create a continuous corridor that stretches from the southern Appalachians all the way into Canada.
This stretch of forest, fields, and wetlands helps animals move safely between these two iconic regions, especially as climate change shifts habitat ranges northward. Each brush pile and planned clearing serves as a stepping stone for hares, foxes, bobcats, and countless other creatures along their journey.
Thanks to the collective efforts of community members, landowners, and conservation partners over the past decade, more than 3,500 acres in this corridor have been conserved, largely through easements with private landowners.
Many of these lands remain in private hands, where owners continue to live, work, and care for the land, making sure it stays wild and welcoming for wildlife.
For Maureen and Paul, building habitat and protecting land go hand in hand. By creating safe spaces for snowshoe hares, they’re doing more than caring for one species, they’re strengthening a network of life that connects Tug Hill to the Adirondacks and beyond, showing how dedicated, deliberate work can ripple across an entire ecosystem.

