Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright, Author

Sunday, June 12, 2011

What A Fox!

For many years, I’ve chosen to start my day about 4 a.m. It started many years ago when I had no choice but to begin early or lose my job. I had to learn the hard way about consequences of oversleeping. That’s a story for another day.

I’ve never cared for breakfast foods, so that naturally led to lunch before noon, usually long before. Sundays, I take it to extremes and have brunch about nine. I could call it breakfast, I suppose. But, my food choices just don’t coincide. They are, by anyone’s definition, appropriate to later in the day. For example, this morning I stir-fried a Chinese dish, garlic almond chicken.

I’m sure by now you think this is about food and the appropriate times it should be eaten; not at all. I just didn’t want you thinking me weird because I had Chinese food so early on a Sunday morning.

What this is really about, are those times when my thinking is as clear as it gets—when problem solving is easy (or as easy as it ever will be)—when secrets of the universe tease me just beyond my fingertips—near enough that it encourages me to reach farther and, at least, attempt to pick that lock and see what’s behind that door I can’t quite put my hand on.

This morning, soy sauce in hand, listening to Enya and staring through the dining room window to the woods beyond, I determined that if the world could see what I did at that moment, there’d be no wars, no hostilities and, maybe, we could all just get along.

A rabbit came flagging that cotton-tail across the yard followed closely by a fox. Apparently the fox favored an early brunch, too. Foxes have a permanent den beneath a large cedar tree on the backside of the wooded acre behind our home. So, it was no surprise. I’ve seen them often—lots of rabbits, too—no surprise there either. Now, for the shocker, that fox put on the brakes and reversed. It ran the other way. The rabbit came out of the woods chasing it.

I set my fork on the edge of my plate and leaned far forward, just to make sure of what I was witnessing, mind you. At first, I thought the rabbit might be rabid and the fox realized it figuring he’d search for a meal elsewhere.

The fox began running in a wide circle, the rabbit followed until the circle tightened to a point that I couldn’t determine who chased whom. The fox stopped and the rabbit leaped at it. The fox jumped back. Then the fox leaped over the rabbit.

It occurred to me those two unlikely candidates were playing, just playing. I could only assume that the fox had a full belly from some other source and the rabbit sensed that. There was absolutely no animosity between them. They were at peace. I could fill a few fat chapters with the thoughts that episode spawned, but the end message was simple and concise.

What I witnessed, I wished for the world.

My garlic almond chicken suddenly tasted a little better.

Have a great week.

Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright
Author of
"Paradise Flawed"/Dream Books LLC/2009
"Six Years' Worth"/Father's Press/2007
"Where Are You, Anne Bonny?"/Rogue Phoenix Press 2010/ ebook available
“Trouble”, short story/CrossTIME Science Fiction Anthology, Vol. IX
“Dancing Away”/short story/Untreed Reads

“Defining Family”
“Annie’s World: Jake’s Legacy”
“The Last Radiant Heart” (re-release)

1 comment:

  1. This was beautiful Danny! Thanks for sharing. We have a duck that lands in our pool every so often. She's tried to play with rabbits, squirrels, our dogs. It's very sweet.