Watching the fox

February 13, 2007, Golden, Colorado
The red fox jumped onto a rock overlook without noticing me. For about three minutes—which seemed like an eternity—I was able to secretly observe the beautiful creature as it rock-hopped among the boulders of North Table Mountain. I was on my daily walk before work, less than a mile from my home; I frequently see mule deer, coyotes, and cotton tail rabbits, but it had been a long time since I had seen a fox.
I was awe-struck at its beauty. The fox looked as though it had just emerged from a beauty parlor. Its winter coat looked silky and full, the golden red fur shimmered in the early morning sunshine. Characteristic of red foxes, its tail had a bushy, pure white tip. In high school (twenty five years ago!) we used to say someone was a “fox” if they were really attractive, and as I admired the fox, I actually thought about bringing the phrase back into my vocabulary.
I was also intrigued at the fox’s apparent curiosity and playfulness as it hopped in a dance-like fashion from rock to rock, pausing to observe, perhaps looking for breakfast, before moving gracefully again. All too soon, it noticed me on the trail above, and ran off in a flash.
The focus and dexterity I observed reminded me of my own quest for mindfulness and desire to experience each moment in its fullest. When I am in nature, I find it much easier to center my attention and be in tune with my own needs and thoughts, while being intensely aware of the world surrounding me. -- Brenda