On our street lives a man who lost his wife and then, progressively, his mind. The garden that they had tended together is a knot of grass and weeds and into that gathering wilderness came the foxes. Having dug themselves a foxhole they had a litter. The cubs chased each other round the garden whilst the vixen watched; sat in cover, eyes glistening. At the back window stands the man, watching. He opens the back door and the foxes scatter, but he is there to help; setting out dog food in bowls. As the years pass there are many generations of foxes in the area and a number of other patrons. The widow who runs the guesthouse loves to see them trot, heads level and steady, through the hole in the holly hedge. She is lonely and fills her life by filling her house with guests and her garden with foxes.
Our generous neighbours are people who need to love. The flow of their affection has run sluggish in the absence of a companion. They fear the dust in their hearts.
The foxes, however, have their own priorities. They are thieves; tearing at bin bags for chicken scraps; running away with gardening gloves and untended shoes; chewing through the straps of bags left momentarily by doorways and, by night,  their gaze, mean and steady, is caught through door windows by housebound cats.
As the population has grown, territory has been squeezed and battles are frequent. Today the loneliness of our neighbours had its flowering. A young fox, brush torn from its body, has lost a fight. Its life has blown across the gravel, away through the holly hedge to dissolve in the sodium light at the end of the alley. Â
That’s beautiful and sad all at once, Moobs.
Moobs, this is so good. I love it!
Somehow, the way you put those words together – I’m not going to be able to say this correctly, haven’t had coffee – epitomised the feeling of paradise in the suburbs and then tragedy.
So good!
Such a surreal and sad look at this. Beautifully done
Gorgeous. Beautifully written, and an amazing photo too.
How terribly sad–but how beautifully written.
Very moving. Where I live it’s the bears coming back to habitat that became a housing development whilst the bears hibernated. I hope the lonely elders are not too terribly bereft.
fantastic stuff.
Wonderful.
Wow. Nice one Moobs. So many things blended here.
my brain is mush and adjectives are lacking tonight, but that was lovely – words and picture
You have a real gift – and, of course, you are a real gift.
It’s amazing how the smallest of things grows into the most annoying.
‘they fear the dust in their hearts’
i think i may have to steal that
x
Movingly written…sad and beautiful and poignant. We have raccoons at the bottom of our garden but I’ve only glimpsed them once or twice. They like their privacy I guess.
Moobs – need a legal opinion (on flashing judges) over on disgruntled commuter…
Beautifully written, Moobs. Here in my neighborhood, we collide/intermingle/coexist with a growing population of deer. But they just aren’t cute enough to win over anyone’s affections, not even from the lonely among us. I used to think this was unfortunate. You’ve convinced me otherwise.