We’ve been living here for 4 years in October (it’s difficult to believe it’s so long and it won’t be long before H has spent as much of his life here as at the old place). We live in a very green part of the city, but we haven’t had that many wildlife visitors. There have been a few frogs (next door have a pond); birds especially the big sort: pigeons, crows and magpies, but also some blue tits, sparrows and robins; one or two dead baby mice have been brought in by our furry friends; a bee’s nest under the eaves two years running; and there have been the usual creepy crawlies. What has been missing and you’d expect to get in an urban environment is foxes.
This year is the first time we have had foxes regularly visiting our garden I think. First I noticed what I thought was fox poo on the grass and on the path. Then we had a sighting a few weeks ago. Since then there have been more. Some of them have been early morning sightings as I am up early every day and the mornings are so light, it’s easy to see. But, we have spotted them from upstairs windows in the afternoon. At first I only saw one at a time, but this morning we saw two adults together.
I took this picture of a fox on our garden table this morning. He seemed to be enjoying the morning sunshine and was giving himself a wash. I managed to get a photo of him (it’s on the phone and I had to zoom in to get it, so the quality isn’t all it might be).
What has interested me is our cats reaction to the foxes. Our nervous male cat, Amber, spotted Mr Fox walking over our patio one morning. He jumped up onto the window sill to have a better look, but he was only curious and not upset about the fox. If that had been another cat, there would have been a lot of drama: fluffy tail and loud complaints. He’d have been acting like he’d got his knickers in a twist all morning. With the fox though there was none of that. Once the fox was gone you wouldn’t have known he’d been there.