At this time of year, it is normally dark when we leave our house in the morning. It was dark this morning as Mr. Michie locked the door, we silently crossed the street to the glow of the streetlamp. As we walked along the High Street, I glanced across the road and suddenly grabbed Mr. Michie’s arm, bringing us to a halt.
There in all his glory was the most gorgeous, breathtaking, majestic fox, walking down the sidewalk. There were just a few cars driving down the road. He waited for a clear opening before he crossed over to our side and stood for a moment on the bridge. He turned and looked at us. Mr. Michie said, “Hello!”. He sat for just a split second and watched us, calmly; he wasn’t afraid. He slowly turned and padded over the bridge and around the bend.
He passed one of the train drivers coming up the hill and by the time we had made our way over the bridge, he had crossed the street and was heading for the staircase that would take him along the footpaths and back to the banks along the tracks.
It was a moving experience. Neither of us spoke, we just watched in reverence. I have a thing for foxes, I always have. To be so close to him was incredible. On one level I was in complete awe and on another, it saddened me to think that our worlds are so interlinked because we have encroached upon his.
I had a few chances to take a picture of him, but I couldn’t do it. It didn’t seem right. This was a moment to be savoured, to slowly devour, not to worry about snapping away or lining up the perfect shot. I looked for him all through my walk this morning as I made my way along the footpaths next to the tracks. I hope he made it home safely. Seeing him this morning, was like being given a gift. A tremendous gift.
