Winter

Winter
Tracks in the Snow. Photo by John Stoeckl

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

A Morning Visitor


On a quiet morning at a lonely ranger station in the obscure town of Cave Junction Oregon, I found myself out by one of the back gates of the compound waiting for the sunrise when an unexpected sound hit my ears.  The rustling of leaves told me it was likely a  squirrel who I'd seen many times before.  But the size of the animal was a bit bigger than a rodent.  It didn't take long to figure it out was one of southern Oregon's residents:  A gray fox.  From the brush he looked at me while huddling close to the protection of a Douglas fir. 

We played a staring game the gray fox and I for some time.  He at times would change position by moving to the other side of the tree, then the staring match would continue. 

I, on the other hand, remained still and quiet curious what my new found friend would do.  I could tell he was both cautious and curious at the stranger in black and green.  I always wonder what the natural world think of us loud and obnoxious humans.  This human would remain quiet and watch.

The gray fox made his way down to the road, stopping and watching.  He crossed the road and again stopped to stare.  His curiosity of me was getting the best of him.  He cautiously edged closer and closer bobbing his head to make sure I wasn't on the attack, stopping just beyond the gate to the ranger station compound. 

As our staring match continued, I have to wonder about the natural world and its clash with human development.  To the fox, the forest with its predators, seasons, food and protection is all they need to live a relatively fruitful life.  The human animal is different.  We build shelters creating artificial heat and cold, changing our own environment to live well beyond the needed core temperature environment of near 98 degrees.  Roads are developed.  Loud vehicles pass.  Cities take over forests and deserts and mountains.  Ecosystems are encroached upon and removed.  Animals scatter from their natural environment sometimes behaviorally adapting to new habitats for which to survive.  For this fox, he lives in the woods of a Forest Service compound where buildings and trucks and people frequent.  We've learned to live together in some unique way. 


I found myself in deep contemplation at the chance to see a wild animal at the gate of the forest district compound.  A rare occurrence I can assure you!  Why was he there?  Was he always there?

I thought about the fires that had engulfed the region.   Taylor fire near Grants Pass.  Klondike fire near Selma.  Nachez fire down just south of Page Mountain in California.  I was literally surrounded by fires and the daily smoke told the story.  Dense smoke that made even the smoggiest cities jealous engulfed the entire region.  Was this fox homeless?  Displaced from the shelter and forests it knew and called home?  Maybe he was only here for survival.  Maybe his curiosity in seeing me was more merely having never been close to people before.  I felt a certain profound sorrow at this as I stood there at the ranger compound looking back at my new found friend.

Within a short time, the fox retreated and went back into the woods for which he came, not even looking back.  I found myself a little in awe of the situation.  Perhaps it wasn't as exciting as seeing the black bear in Alaska with her cubs.  Nor was it quite like running into a moose on a winter morning outside my front door.  But anytime I get to experience some level of wildlife, I stand in wonderment. to experience even that of the elusive fox.

I looked in the direction of his departure for some time following, but he was gone.  I wonder if he'll be back on some other morning.  I turned to go only to be greeted by the morning sunrise.  Life is pretty amazing.