13 May

There are foxes under the chicken house again.

This isn’t as dire as it sounds. Said chicken house has not actually housed chickens in many years. And baby foxes are awfully cute.

The chicken house has tall, chain link runs behind it, and the kits are very comfortable playing there, feeling very safe even with people close by watching them. There are four this year, that I’ve seen at least, but just one that is very brave.

Wanting to get a photo without three layers of chain link in the way, I climbed a fence, and crawled under the lilac hedge to open the door at the end of the run where the babies were playing. I was trying to be quiet, so as not to startle them, but if there is a way to be quiet while crawling on hands and knees over dried leaves and under branches, I don’t know it.

The gap through which I crawled. Challenging, but aesthetically pleasing.

Of course, this makes me think of my beloved Louis L’amour westerns, where a character is “a good injun” and can move through the bush with very little noise to sneak up on someone. Or a military team, moving silently through the jungle to their target.

This must be a real skill. It is not a skill I have, that’s for sure.

After I’d crashed through the bush and opened the rusty gate, three of the foxes had taken cover in the den, but one brave little kit still played outside, chasing his tail and digging in the dirt and basically being adorable.

“Look at that tail! I must bite it.”

Springtime is all about cute babies … but we keep warning the barn cat that she’d better stick with her own barn for the time being.

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Posted by on May 13, 2012 in writing


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