Jackie Foster Art

A red fox emerges from the deep blue woods, alert and watchful. Its luminous coat brings a burst of warmth and color to the forest.

One autumn afternoon in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, I watched a red fox move gracefully across a wide field of green and golden grass. With a maple tree full of orange leaves nearby, the fox blended right in with the autumn colors.

I have also seen three red foxes in my own backyard. Once, a fox raced across the yard with my little dog in pursuit. She chased it with complete confidence, unconcerned that the fox was nearly twice her size. The fox easily outran its determined little pursuer.

One winter night, a fox sat for several minutes in the middle of my snowy backyard. Its red coat looked beautiful against the white snow. It seemed perfectly comfortable out in the open and in no hurry to leave.

The most majestic of my backyard sightings happened at the edge of the woods. A fox climbed onto a large boulder and stood tall and strong in the sunlight, its head held high. It remained there briefly before taking off again.

I feel so lucky to have seen each of these foxes, especially the ones in my backyard that I could easily have missed if I had not glanced outside at just the right moment.

These memories stay with me, and found their way into Out of the Blue.