I
saw the fox run west along a sheep track and followed it.
It ran purposefully and straight, its tail streaming behind
it. It was smaller than I thought a fox should be and its
face was sharp and knowing. When it stopped and turned its
head, I saw that its eyes were blue. It seemed oblivious of
me. It turned only to check a scent, then continued down the
hill. Its paws were silent on the ground although the path
was chalky and dry. The sun was high in the sky and it was
hot and unusually soundless and still, as if life was suspended
except for us. I could hear no birds singing or insects buzzing
by. There were no other people to be seen. The fox came to
some stone steps to the left of the path and began down them
but soon it was stepping off into the air and I followed it
down and came to the same step and there I stepped out too
and was walking on the blue of the afternoon sky. There was
a faint cloud trail alongside us like the vapour trail of
a plane and we followed it, first the fox, then me. It was
strange walking. I stepped onto nothing but it was a firm
invisible path. I felt it and was confident. There was no
way I could fall off. We continued on a level with the tree
tops and the fox looked around just once and sniffed the air
then went on as before. I had a great desire to catch up with
it and to hold onto its tail. I wanted to feel its soft volume
across my face, especially against my lips. |
