When we awoke this morning, we found we had been magically transported to an unfamiliar aerie overlooking Cape Cod Bay.
That’s what it felt like, anyway. The dog tried to figure out where he was.
Outside, strangely silent bluejays hopped about in the brush.
Walking down Franklin Street toward the water, a flash of red streaked across the sidewalk and onto the front lawn of a house.
Our hearts beat fast.
We investigated, and found – be still, my heart –
a magnificent red fox.
Just hanging out in the driveway in the middle of Provincetown, like it owned the joint. The fox watched us, and we watched the fox for five or ten minutes.
I’ve never seen such a tail. And such eyes. And such handsome black stockings.
After a while, the fox lost interest in us and resumed its morning business. The dog and I, too, resumed our morning business, heading to the wharf.
But that’s a story for another post.