While out on an early morning saunter, I rounded a curve in the road to witness a furry bundle tumble four feet from the top of a retaining wall to the grassy turf below.
The ball unfolded, sat up and shook its head, as though momentarily stunned; then looked directly at me and froze.
There we stood stock still, eyeing each other for an eternal moment, before he turned and trotted off across the road and over the grassy expanse into the wood — a red fox, a juvenile most assuredly.
He was uniform in color, reddish grey, with neither a white tip on his tail nor black tipped ears. The paws seemed oversized, like those of a puppy; and he ran with a lollop, like that of a young dog.
This is the third time I have sighted fox in this stretch of road. Most likely they return to their den from their nocturnal foraging along this run.
It’s heartening to see a young fox in the spring — a sign of health in the surrounding forest.