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Saturday morning presented an unexpected challenge.
Should I bring us home from where I left us yesterday, in Albany? Or should I put that on hold and post this morning’s surprise?
The temperature being reported as above freezing, snow was not predicted. Never-the-less, early this morning and for a couple of hours, it poured.
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Before long, the ground was covered.
Still, when Grant announced he was off to the village, I almost stayed home, thinking it would shortly turn to rain.
There wouldn’t be much worth seeing.
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Luckily, I changed my mind. The return from Albany can wait or go into the archives for a bleak day.
On a hill approaching the village there is a grove of tamaracks but getting a photo is difficult because of power lines. With a little snow and serious cropping, I managed an image of sorts.
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For once we weren’t headed to the post office. Granted needed something from the Dollar Store, so we turned right on route 22 which had resumed the appearance of winter.
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Spring snow gives me perverse delight.
Opposite the store, the hill looked splendid!
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So we went in search of a better view.
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We’d not expected the trees to be so coated.
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In expectation of a long hot summer, why not appreciate it?
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With our purchases in hand, we set off for home.
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Approaching our turnoff, I suggested a quick scenic tour which is what led to the morning’s real bittersweet surprise.
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With no traffic, it wasn’t a problem, but the road had become snow-covered!
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No sign today, of those wandering geese!
They were probably tucked up safely in their barn.
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Doesn’t look much like Spring, does it?
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December, perhaps?
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We crested the hill and going down the other side we spotted movement beside the road which was instantly recognizable…
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Fox kits!
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Not tiny and as you can see, seemingly well-nourished.
As far as we could tell there were three, running in and out of a culvert.
Then Grant noticed an adult, the mother perhaps, lying dead nearby.
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One’s first reaction is to leap to the rescue, but the best of intentions can lead to disaster where wildlife is concerned.
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We drove on, alternately delighted and disturbed.
Disturbed, mostly.
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Baby foxes are cared for by both parents, the male hunting and providing food as the mother nurses. At 3 months the kits would be learning to hunt themselves.
It is likely the surviving parent of these three is still around, so even if we could catch the kits which is most unlikely, moving them would not be a kindness.
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On our own property, we could put food where the kits could find it, but these babies are on someone else’s land and who knows how they feel about foxes?
Placing food near the culvert not a good idea as it would entice the animals close to the road, as well as other animals.
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Our path was deteriorating,
so we turned around and made our way back.
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Beneath snow-laden trees.
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Past another of those trees I so often photograph because it stands out against the sky.
The kits were still there. One ran up the hill toward a clump of bushes. The photo I took of the corpse confirms that it was a fox, so we hope those three babies will survive.
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They looked well and just old enough, I think, but I know very little about foxes.
Life is full of bittersweet.
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If it hadn’t snowed this morning, we would not have gone up there, would not have seen the kits.
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Worrying about them will certainly not help.
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But we’ll assuredly think of those babies and look out for them every time we pass that way.
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Then – we were home.
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The snow already in retreat.
A surprising Saturday morning.
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Thank you, Carolyn, for the interesting post! The snow by now must be a thing of the past, and the babies will find it easier to survive. I long for your blue sky to come back! Perhaps, you will see the delightful trio again!
Joanna
Always a difficult decision, but it is the only one you could have taken.
We survived last winter in Beetley with the merest hint of snow, so I certainly do not want to see any arriving in April. The young foxes are a delight, as long as nobody nearby keeps chickens. That might be their undoing, considering how many people in America have rifles.
Best wishes, Pete.
That is my concern too. There seemed to be a den just up the hill which one of the kits ran up to. I’ve contacted a wildlife rescue and they may go to take a look.
Oh, I was so excited to see the young foxes, then devastated that their mother was killed. Nature is a difficult path for many. I once read that the average life span of a wild fox is only two years, on average. I hope the second parent will help these youngsters along. As always, your pictures are gorgeous.