Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Night of the foxes.

There is something about a chill spring night that differs from an autumn one. Maybe it is the memory of the warmth of the day, maybe the scent of spring flowers held in frozen air.
Tonight the world is full of night song. Lambs are calling in fields all around and the dogs are hunting swift. Foxes call and Fred bark to join the chase across at the daffodil farm. His bark closes the distance. Rosie pricks up her ears and calls back. Foxes. A night full of foxes.
On the pond the Canada geese rise, calling and a coot shrills sharp. An owl is also hunting, flying low along the hedge banks.
Stars shine, new moon swelling in dark sky. Moonshadows dark as black velvet.
Heaven.

6 comments:

deborah said...

How I love these "bedtime" stories. They are wonderful to fill your readers with the peace of the country.
I am looking forward to a visit to Vermont next month. It will be early spring, full of moisture and the spring smells of frost, fresh growth, decaying leaves. Your post has me even more eager to be there.
It will be wet every where and I need new boots!

petoskystone said...

we have no foxes close enough to hear their barking. the last one burnt the wind bolting from under the back porch upon hearing toddler stomps! yours is such a lovely story i heard thier barking in our silence.

Griffin said...

Well I know we have foxes prowling around our gardens at night, but never hear them... only a quick shadow or a glimpse of bushy tail. Tho' I have walked along the road first thing in the morning and a fox trotted along ahead of me. Quite wonderful to see it.

Your language is as poetic as your pictures... sigh!

moreidlethoughts said...

So evocative...

jamjar said...

This is beautiful prose, "his bark close the distance" is so evocative of that feeling of deep night.

Susan said...

I love the poetry of your writing and your photographs.