Many A Mile To Go
“The fox went out on a chilly night,
he prayed to the Moon to give him light,
for he’d many a mile to go that night
before he reached the town-o, town-o, town-o,
he had many a mile to go that night
before he reached the town-o.”
-modern lyrics to a 15th century English folk song
I wasn’t lying when I mentioned before how the stone wall that runs along one of our property lines was a super highway for wildlife. I’ve been watching this fox (seen here on the trailcam: IMAG0040 ) for some time now. Always in the middle of the night.
I finally caught a glimpse of him during the day, a man (or vixen?) on a mission, moving hastily through the white-washed woods, along the stone wall and quickly out of sight. I only managed to grab these 3 photos.
There was another time I photographed a fox, which seems not too long ago but now that I am reflecting on it, it has been 4 and a half years. Crazy. I can still smell the swamp that I sat in wait in. I can still hear the thrushes at dusk. I sat camped in the swamp every night for 3 weeks, in full camouflage, in a make shift blind. And I waited. I was eventually rewarded. (you can revisit those stories here if you’re bored: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3).
Sitting in a summer swamp, batting away mosquitos, trying to focus a camera in a twighlighted forest was very challenging. But harder yet? Trying to photograph a fox from the confines of your home, while wearing a three month old baby. Do I wish I could bundle up and go sit outside in a newly made makeshift blind so that I could get up close and personal with the travelers of the stonewall causeway? Absolutely.
I feel a bit removed and not intimate with the moment of what I am photographing when it happens from the deck. It’s not the same. But I am sure the time will come again. My kids won’t need me as much as they do in these early years. And I think I’d regret it terribly so if I was chasing things through my camera lens instead of chasing them. And besides, I feel pretty lucky because not everyone can live at the edge of a 100 acre wilderness and watch so many different species, representing all aspects of the food chain, all from their back porch. I feel very fortunate at this stage of my life.