The Fox in Colorado

When I was in Colorado, I lived near a field. Looking out my back windows, I could see the Rocky Mountains. I watched a herd of elk move through the field. Once, I saw a mountain lion cross the grass. Near the end of the time I was in Colorado I started to catch glimpses of another creature. The fox in the summer blended with the tall grass and moved stealthily. While in winter, the fox was invisible.

The elk, the deer, the eagle that would drop rabbits on the roof, the magpies, the mountain lion, or the coyotes that ranged up and down the valley never piqued my interest as much as the fox. Sometimes, the fox would play a game of peek-a-boo with me as I walked down the road. I began watching for the fox when I went to my car, came home from work, or went for a walk. I would see him in snatches, flicks of a tail, or ears and a nose hiding in the grass.


Because I watched closely, I learned the fox had a family. As a result of learning this, I did research on foxes. They often mate for life and where you find one, there is frequently a second one. My fox had a vixen and pups. Further, the fox family was always there, hunting the rodents in the field, and moving among the snow and grass, but largely invisible.

I found myself relating to the foxes. Researching deeper on totem animals and I found that the fox were associated with invisibility. Maybe I was just silly, I began to be distressed about my seeing the peeking foxes and my relating to them like a spirit animal. I did not want to be unseen. I did not want to be invisible. Invisibility is not desirable when you want to be a published author or an artist, when you want to be loved, or when you want to do great things.

The Fox in Michigan

That was three years ago. I am in Michigan now. I have gone through much. It has made me question who I am, my beliefs, my worth, what I expect from others, what I expect from myself, whether I have anything to say or do that is worth saying or doing, what I enjoy, what I want the meaning of my life to be, and more. I saw a fox in my yard the other day. It stood and looked at me before trotting off.

The fox is a koan.

Good Omens/Small Evils

I have just started reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet.  In the very beginning of the book the demon Crowley ties up every portable phone system in London during lunch hour for forty five minutes thus causing all sorts of fury and mayhem.

This got me thinking about all the small little things that could be small inspired little evils. Not big evils like decaffeinated coffee.  Or stealing. Or murder. Or my personal favorite–worshipping false gods. What makes a god false? But that’s another post.

Anyway, small evils.

Like travel mugs that drip coffee on your shirt and if you are chesty the spot is there all day drawing attention to your assets in a most uncomfortable way.

Or intermittent internet connectivity that goes in and out as you are trying to fill in that online application that involves a timed personality inventory and ten small essay questions. Actually just intermittent internet connectivity in a cafe where a number of people go to be productive.

Or public doors with a handle to pull but really have to be pushed.

Or paperback novels with a page missing.

Or discovering that the fork you packed with lunch is mysteriously missing. Or lunch counters with no napkins. Or a waitress that forgets to bring condiments.

Or the brilliant idea to look up how to spell a word in the dictionary.

Or the banking policy of charging extra for bounced checks.

Or the mixed up idea that kids should nap in the afternoon and adults shouldn’t.

I cannot think of more right now. Perhaps later. If anyone can think of some small evils that generate fury or inspiration for sin by all means add to my list.