two nights ago at dusk, we saw two foxes playing along the edge of the cattails near the dock. it was too dark to make out their coloring, but we were sure they were foxes by their big bushy tails. we couldn’t tell if they were gray or red fox–both of which are residents of our woods. they chased each other and roughhoused with a jubilant abandon that was both endearing and thrilling. far from feeling threatened by the nearness of such predators, we had an obscure instinct to let our puggle, jack, out the back door to join the fun. last night, the same pair returned, this time earlier in the evening. and the flat afternoon light revealed that they weren’t foxes at all, but young coyotes. still we were charmed by their puppyish games, until we thought about the six hens, each possessing a name and a personality, slowly making their way along the foundation of our house toward their evening roost. we locked our girls in a little earlier than usual that night.

bouquet of foxtail grass in winter

vadnais lake, saint paul, minnesota