Many foxes

I have encountered quite a few foxes this year. Many, if I go back a whole year.

A couple, they stuck with me, were wrestling in the middle of the road, in the other lane, but even when I slowed down and stopped the car beside them, they continued for a few more minutes. Then, as if we were not there, as if no car had stopped, because someone else coming in the opposite direction had also stopped to let the foxes do what they were doing. After a few minutes of screeching, fearful cries, biting, catching, rolling and somersaulting they moved into the woods and disappeared.

Maybe it was the season of love, I don't know: I'm not an ethologist, but I would have liked it.

In Japan, one afternoon, after bathing in an onsen in the sea, a surreal situation: it was a sea of rather large waves, but these two pools, at low tide, came to be at the surface of the water. In one there were some families, in the other, smaller one, the usual natives who back off a bit when you dive in and make room, that the onsen is everyone's, even those who come from far away and were just passing by. It is everyone's even if it is from the sea, especially if it is in the sea.

On the way back we chose to take the forest road and met this fox: it stared at us, accustomed, seemed to be waiting.