Shy Animals

How lucky to see a fox with a lustrous golden coat napping under a tree. When he awakened, he looked at me without fear, only curiousity. It occurs to me that there is always life, seen or unseen. In the winter landscape, life is evasive. Morning walks yield the bare knuckles of brush and tree branches. The occasional pine seems overshadowed by bare and reaching oak and ash. I strayed from the path, finding bridges, stone walls, and sometimes just the sign of an animal who has a kind of comfort with the woods that I will never have. Instead I look for ways to describe the stillness and the hidden pulse of life just ahead of me.