By Shawn Smith
Dear Red Fox. What brings you to the farmstead today, of all days? The ground is peppered by fleeting snow, the temperature frigid, the wind brisk, the sky gray. You, or your kits, must be hungry to brave these conditions. My camera lens has the power to pull you in close to my eye, and thus to my heart. Friend, I can see that you feel the elements. With each gust of wind I see your eyes squint, I’ve felt the same and know the sensation. Against the white ground your red and black fur is magnificent. I’m in awe of how well-groomed you appear, for your candid cousins who share my home are embarrassingly blowing their coats and look a mess. I notice you’re attracted to the piles of duck hay, I imagine they have been winter homes to the voles, mice, rats and others who also call SHO home. I admit I’m relieved that the ducks decided to stay inside the barn today, of course unaware that you’d be visiting. Oh….you seem to have been successful in your quest for food. Of course, I’m torn. So happy that you are now fed, but equally sad to know another wild kin has lost its life. The pulse of ecosystem balancing is threaded by peace and suffering, joy and pain. As I watch you head back toward the protection of the trees, I wonder when I’ll see you again. I hope you stay safe, well fed, and protected in the shelter of SHO. Know that you and yours are loved and always welcomed. Please give us and the ducks respect as we extend the same to you and your kin. Be well, friend. Until we meet again, much love.