the fox in the dunes

The dunes at Castricum are full of wind and light. The marker in the road says it is just beyond them to the sea.

We detour. The winter sun is low but full of warmth.

The reeds and scraggly, creeping undergrowth catch sun, never stop moving.

A shape slips weaving, thoughtful, among them. Bigger than a dog, I think, but distance has become illegible. He doesn’t blend perfectly, but if I hadn’t been watching the hills he would have gone unseen.

We keep walking – the path leads towards him – he allows it, has seen a human before perhaps.

He vanishes behind a dune. What a wonder, what a blessing, what a vision, we murmur. And as we pass the dune he comes back into view, still at ease – we, too, are at ease. Hello, hello fox, I say.

His large ears attune, turning this way and that to receive my message.

We are welcome to pass by, so we do. Beyond, the sea stretches far as the sky.