Through the window, dawn smudged pastel colours across the horizon. Mist rose over fields frosted white as I watched the red blur of a fox race back to its den.
I thought back to a few days before when my son had me check his garden for intruders. He had been woken by a series of almighty screams in the night that sounded as if someone… or something… was in the room with him. I smiled to myself at the memory. He had never heard a vixen’s mating scream before, but it was easily identified thanks to Youtube.
“It is too early for mating, surely?” he had asked.
“Not really. Any cubs conceived now would not be born until the onset of spring.”
I was watching the magpies drive off the crows from ‘their’ tree as I spoke. The magpies are already rebuilding their nest. Red kites are…
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