walking with foxes

The chilly path I walked along this morning was the route a fox had taken sometime earlier--his footprints were there in the snow, sometimes walking, sometimes bounding. Maybe he walked that route earlier in the morning, maybe last night. The tracks were pretty fresh.

It felt like I was walking with him. I practically was--if you take a longer view of time, I was, in fact. What's a matter of hours if we're talking centuries? We were walking side by side.

Sometimes other tracks were there--squ...