Letters from Home – 7

My dear Zoe,

It is a perfect day to write letters: it is raining. That isn’t a bad thing, it has been a dry April to this point, I was beginning to doubt if we would have any May flowers without the April showers! And , to be sure, I do enjoy writing to you, rain or sun!

Have you ever noticed how questions that you may have only thought of get answered? Only yesterday, I was wondering about the fox population on the farm, how I hadn’t seen any foxes since last year.

Then, this morning, I was looking out across the field scanning for the turkeys and deer that have been so common lately. There, dancing it’s prance and pounce routine was a beautiful (if wet) red fox! I uttered a quick “thanks” to whomever watches over me so well, and continued to watch. It was obvious that the fox had something wider than it’s muzzle in his mouth as it was field-dressing the catch.

I saw the fox give a glance over it’s left shoulder which drew my eyes in the same direction. Behind the now nervous looking fox were two adult Canada geese, moving toward the fox. Then a story began forming in my mind. One that changed my happiness to see a fox into sadness to imagine that the fox had found the nest of a pair of resident geese, and was dining on the youngest family member!

The fox came from the field and through the front yard still carrying the unrecognizable catch and then slipped into the woods as the geese wandered about in the field. I thought again of the fox, and of the possibility that several kits would have a meal thanks to the hunting skill of their parent.

A couple of hours later I walked the field looking for nest, feathers, fur, whatever I could find to fill in the blanks in my story, but found only a few goose droppings. Proving my feeble finding skills, the goose’s skill at camouflage, and the fox’s abilities to see through the goose’s skill.

We are so lucky to have been put on this beautiful ark bobbing around in this sea of wonder. Though many would’ve wanted to disrupt the cascade of events this morning, though hunters that I know would’ve shot the fox on sight acting as “stewards”, I am just happy to be a part of the “sea” of plants, animals and time we call life.

I’m happy to have you on this ark with me, happy sailing to us all!

Love,

Uncle Roy