Sometimes you just get lucky.

I was on a variation of a very common countryside riding route, a few miles from home, and on the way out I caught a glimpse of a fox in the tall grass of the ditch. It was the briefest of sightings, both because I was moving and because it ducked for cover as I approached. I considered myself fortunate for having been granted the viewing at all, and continued pedaling.

I had more or less forgotten that sighting by the I’d hit the middle point of the ride and began to swing back for the return trip. But as I approached the same section of road from the other direction I was greeted by a much less shy furry friend:

Fox

At first he just peeked his head out of the tall grass, and I assumed it would be similar to the prior encounter. But he was still for long enough to suggest I could get a picture, so I checked my rear view mirrors to make sure I was safe from behind, and then pulled up the phone to take this picture.

I thought that would be it, but I waited, keeping a watch behind me, because he continued to stand there. And then he moved out into the road and towards me!

Curious Fox

But that was apparently close enough, and he bolted away: He’s had enough...

And again, I thought it was done, and prepared to move on. But I was wrong - not only did he not take off and hide, but there was another there as well.

And then there were two

Litter mates, I assume, and likely not far from the den. Mama must have been away hunting or they surely would have been scolded back in. I was both thankful that she did not do so, but also concerned about the frolicking close to - and in - the road. But it afforded a marvelous opportunity, for as long as I stayed still and quiet, they continued to largely disregard me.

They stayed, playing at the side of the road until I decided it was time to move on. It was the rare perfect confluence of events. I am no expert in vulpine age determination (nor do I play such an expert on TV), but I assume these were juveniles, which would account for the relative lack of concern at my presence. They must have been denned up in the ditch, likely near where they were playing. And the road was blissfully clear of any motor vehicle traffic for the entire time I was there. This last part was a special gift, because while this was a country road, and not even a major country thoroughfare, I honestly cannot remember a ride on it before where I did not encounter at least one car or truck.

It was a gift of life in the country.