Stalking the Grasshopper

A more attentive animal mother than this fox I saw recently would be hard to imagine.

She watches over her kits intently, and when she is done training them, they will be efficient hunters.

Even now, this fox kit is small, but in his heart, he's a lion, lurking in the clover...

...stalking the grasshopper.

"Well done, my little one."


Linking with Saturday's Critters

Little Foxes

On the edges of the day we occasionally see foxes, usually one at a time, and briefly, before they melt back into the forest. 

I've always associated foxes with the wild, but, as I learned recently, they're pretty adaptable.

My neighbor called the other day to tell me that they had a fox den with four young kits under their back porch

and asked if I'd like to come over and take pictures.

Does an ant like to go to a picnic?

When I arrived, the mother fox was in the open, and her four kits emerged shortly after. 

The first one came out cautiously, peering up over the edge of the porch, and the others followed, tumbling over each other to get outside.

They played much like puppies, chasing their tails, running and fighting and rolling in the grass.

Even on their second day out, they were little hunters. When the fireflies lit their lanterns, a kit jumped up and caught one. 

There were licking baths from Mom, which were not aways appreciated...

...and plenty of kisses, which were.

So far, the kits stay in their dens for most of the day, appearing in the late afternoon when their mother comes. 

All that play can tire a young kit out, and when it was nap time, they piled back into their den. 

Their mother retreated a short distance and watched attentively from behind an old bench, then curled up for a nap herself. 

All of that play supervision can be tiring, too.

I don't know what the kits dream of when they sleep the day away, 

but when my head hits the pillow tonight, 

I have a feeling I'll be dreaming of little foxes catching fireflies and playing under the stars.

There will be more pictures in the near future. 

I hope you'll be back to see them.

Linking with Saturday's Critters

A Memorial

We remember.

Taken at the VA Outpatient Clinic in Branson, Missouri.

Linking with Skywatch Friday.

Once in a Lifetime

Last week's rains were all but forgotten yesterday, with the air fresh and clear, the sky the color of a robin's egg, and a palette of greens overspreading the landscape. I found it impossible to stay indoors, so I called my friend, DiAnn, and we arranged to go for a walk near her home. Her neighborhood is quiet, with scattered houses and scant traffic, which, today, was a good thing.

DiAnn had just told me about her neighbors who feed the deer every day, when a rustling sound from the side of the road caught my attention. A tiny newborn fawn was there, moving slowly toward us on wobbly legs. I bent down and extended my hand, as I would for a dog, and the thin little creature came haltingly and sniffed my fingers. I think the fawn was too young for fear to guide its actions. Apparently, I wasn't the one it was looking for, because it moved slowly on into the road. 

Neither DiAnn nor I had a camera with us, so she volunteered to run home for the cameras (hers at her house and mine in my car) while I kept track of the fawn. I watched as it crossed the road and entered the woods. It made its way a few yards into the woods and laid down beside a small log.

Some might surmise that the fawn was lost, but it is natural for a doe to leave a newborn while she browses. Most often, the fawn will stay in place until the doe returns. Newborns have no scent, which gives them a certain protection against predators. 

DiAnn returned in her golf cart with our cameras, and I made my way, as quietly as I could over the dry leaves, to the place I had last seen the fawn. Sure enough, it was resting there, tucked into a ball, waiting for its Mother.

Any contact with a wild creature is amazing, but being so close to this small, vulnerable newborn melted our hearts. This may, quite likely, have been a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. For all three of us.

Maybe God gives us moments like this as gifts to remind us of His love and His care for all of creation. But in this place we call home, wonders are not limited to the once-in-a-lifetime variety. At various times of the year, we can see the Milky Way spilling across the sky, or watch snow pile into a white blanket. We can listen to a Mockingbird imitating the music around it, taste fresh clear water, touch a Wooly caterpillar, or smell the scent of wild spearmint, activated by our footsteps. 

And so, from this place in the universe, for one tiny fawn, and for everyday wonders, I lift my heart in thanks.

In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.

Job 10:12

For another fawn story, click here.

Linking with Saturday's Critters