September 7, 2005
Reward
The other morning on my stationary bike pedaling out of nowhere and wondering whether it was of much use, I got to thinking about entering the Tour de France. I enjoy watching out the upstairs window as our back yard goes by on my way to what the bike’s readout says averages about seven miles, but even so it occurred to me that the scenery on the Tour might be more intriguing if somewhat more daunting.
It was then that I saw the fox. It was casually nosing about our yard at what might have been a root or a root dweller. Our hill could pass for a forest if you discounted the random dwellings with which we humans have blighted it, but I can’t imagine it dense enough for a fox to feel much at home. Nevertheless, there it was, a bit lanky, but with an impressively reddish bronze coat and an elegantly bushy tail. When it looked up and in my direction, I suddenly realized what large ears foxes have.
CP and I were in Wales last March and spent a morning on a sheep farm. The Brits had only recently outlawed fox hunting, and the shepherd was not much liking the idea. I thought about him when I saw our fox and fantasized some more about maybe being a bugler on a fox hunt. It was a lot more attractive idea, for the Tour was rolling up to the foothills of the Alps about then, and I was looking for a way to have a flat tire or something.
[Visit Episcopal Relief and Development at http://www.er-d.org/ to make a donation to Katrina Relief or Episcopal Migration Ministries at emm@episcopalchuyrch.org to volunteer to assist displaced people with housing.]