family of foxes

Charlie, what do you think? You outlasted frostbite and followed every beast. Can you sing? Can you love? Because if you can’t by now it don’t look good for us.

I had thought my mulberries would go to waste this fall, but a family of foxes moved in. The mom watches me and only walks away when she thinks she’s communicated what she needs me to understand. Her three pups tussle and chase each other not minding me watching on at all.

When you live alone up here, like I do, a family of foxes coming to live with you is as good as any company can be and you’re grateful.

The great rhinoceros died alone, and maybe that’s as good as dying gets, bring it all back and be kind, said the sentimental beast.

I had thought my humanity would go to waste this fall, but I have a friend who stops by on his way to the coast. We sit out back in the rocking chairs, we drink whiskey and talk.

When you live alone up here, like I do, a friend who stops by to see if you need help and sits with you in the rocking chair watching life go by, is as good as any company can be and you’re grateful.

While my friend and I talked, I felt us being watched. I turned, “look,” I whispered to my friend, “there’s momma fox watching us from the fence.” She let him take a picture and till stood there looking on. Momma fox looks at me as she were trying to tell me something. Is she trying to remind me I haven’t been to the underworld in some time? Is she saying I need to go to the underworld because I need to be told something? Her silence is heavy. So much so that I know whenever she’s watching me.

When you live alone up here, like I do, to have a family of foxes eating your mulberries feels so big and special, and you are reminded that your heart still beats and you haven’t lost your sense of wonder about things in this world. That you sing. That you love even if no one’s here, and that we may still have a chance at this life thing. So I watch on, and they let me. Today, the dad taught the pups how to hunt a squirrel and cleanly eat its meat. They left the carcass for me to clean up. My mother asked, “do you think they will live there forever?”

I don’t think so. The mulberries will soon be gone and there will be nothing left for them to eat so they’ll have to move on, but I’ll always remember when I housed a family of foxes.

Charlie, what do you think? You outlasted frostbite and followed every beast. Bring it all back and be kind and tell the story how the foxes ate the carraway seeds.

*lyrics from Max Garcia Conover “Week 73: The End of the Fables”