A red and gray fox dropped by our backyard last week for a Texas persimmon snack.
The tree gets watered daily and serves as a veritable fruit bar this time of year. Just missing one of those chocolate fountains.
I’ve never seen an unstuffed fox outside of a zoo. This one appeared more determined than the children’s book variety. Less red. Longer tail. More scrawny but better camouflaged for the scrub and rock.
He rested under the tree a while. Stood up on his hind legs to grab from the top shelf. Scooted back under the gate and loped home down the hill.
No clue he was in my backyard. Inside a fence I installed to keep the dog in not a fox out. Oblivious to the man recording his every move from behind the window.
He left behind the gift of anticipation. Wonderment. Unanswered questions of den location and family size. Of a tail almost as long as his body.
A few realists pointed out he could have rabies. And foxes can be aggressive. I have no intention of getting in the yard with him or trying to hand feed the guy.
For now I’m just thankful for his visit. For another reminder of the beauty of creation and the privilege of living in the midst of it.