Fox In The Frost
“ Something from the untamed times flows bright under that cosy orange fur ”
They are vivid when the woods seem sleepy, and theatrical when most wildlife conserves its strength. It is the contrast that jolts when a fox emerges on a winter’s morning, flame-coloured fur against monochrome hills, underscored by the unspoken puzzle of a wild animal in a working, humanised landscape. And this one was awake before me: it has left its footprints behind like a diary, pointing through barbed wire across a paddock and towards a human home.
Foxes are beside us, always, weaving unique perspectives on landscapes that we think we know. They are the product of a much older world – of wildwood coursed by wolves and pounded by bison – but have thrived during thousands of years of human influence on the British landscape,
