Waiting for Coffee

This morning, I leaned on the dining room window sill, gazing into the tiny patch of trees there while my coffee was brewing. It looked grey and dull and gloomy. Every now and then, a sharp wind would come through and scatter dead brown leaves to the ground. It looked like winter.

But, there was movement on the thicket floor, and it wasn't leaves. It was a huge red fox, with a bushy, white-tipped tail and black ears. He was prowling about the place, likely searching for food. Though I tried, I could not capture him with my camera. The condo was just a little high up, and most of him was the exact color of the dead leaves he padded through.

When he had gone out of sight, I wished him as safe and happy a winter as winter can be, and hoped out loud that he stayed away from the road.

Even in this densely human-populated planned community, there are many trees and many little forests and parks. It is comforting beyond words that nature reminds me of her presence even here.