The Fox (Part One)

Stalking a Shapeshifter

Photo by Sunguk Kim on Unsplash

Earlier in the week I set out on a mission, determined to capture some footage of a fox on my wildlife camera. I know for a fact that foxes visit our garden. When we first moved here, we purchased our first ever wildlife camera, to discover who was creating a track through our undergrowth. The fox was elusive back then. At first the camera captured only a flash of movement, as the bristles of a tail whisked out of sight. By the time we had a photograph, the space was empty.

Then I began to put down food, some nuts, berries and apples. Before long, our fox would stay a while, having realised the camera wasn’t a threat, and eat her fill, giving us some lovely photographs and video footage.

But life became busy, and I put the camera away. I wasn’t taking the time to pay attention to the wonder that was at the bottom of my very own garden. So perhaps it was only fitting that when I decided to start filming my fox again, so I could share her with you, that I had to work for it.

We’ve been spotting signs of the fox around our garden for months now. The dogs sniffing intently at piles of leaves, scat that most definitely hasn’t been deposited by my dogs and clear tracks through the undergrowth and long grass. So, I really didn’t think this would be a challenge. I confidently set up my camera where we have fenced off a small area and dedicated it solely to wildlife. I’d like to say the wildlife was our main priority, but the truth is that we also needed to protect our Labradors from gorging themselves on the glossy purple fruit from our forty-year-old plum trees that pepper the ground in late summer. (Anyone who owns a Labrador will understand this predicament, I am sure.)

The first evening I didn’t try especially hard to entice our nighttime visitor. I simply positioned the camera in an area I knew the fox frequented and left. The following morning, I was filled with anticipation as I opened up the camera. Meanwhile my dog Leo barked impatiently for his treats, disgusted at this interruption to his daily walk. I released the tiny SD card and clutched it safely to my chest as I returned to the house. I threw off my coat and didn’t even stop for breakfast before loading up the footage onto my laptop.

A great shot of my apple… but alas no fox.

I gave a heavy sigh. Nothing. The garden was empty. It was clear something had triggered the camera, but perhaps it was just the wind, or a long stem of grass that likes to wave in front of the camera at the most inopportune moments.

The next night I decided to try harder. I set up the camera again, and this time scattered a handful of grapes (having first checked to see that foxes could safely eat them) in the area just in front of it. [I have since researched further and discovered that grapes can in fact be toxic to foxes - so I no longer do this] I went to bed feeling less confident than the night before. She had evaded me once; she could do it again. The following morning, still hopeful, my heart leapt as I saw there were several videos recorded at regular intervals in the early hours of the morning. I held my breath as the footage downloaded onto my laptop.

There was my fox! The footage was shrouded in mist, possibly due to some moisture on the camera lens, but there was no mistaking it. A tantalising glimpse of alert, pointy ears, and bright intense eyes, flashing right at the camera, then disappearing into the mist. My heart was beating faster as I quickly scanned through the next piece of footage. I still had several files to open, filmed at regular intervals over the course of the night. I was in for a treat.

But alas, I had been foiled once again:-

Always check your batteries people!!

The third night I was determined not to be beaten. I replaced my batteries, checking several times that they were 100%. I strategically placed a couple of apples and some nuts in a place where I hoped she would pause to eat and allow me to film her.

By the time my husband and I did our final dog walk of the evening, I glanced over at the wildlife area and my heart sank. All the food, laid out so carefully for my fox, had already been eaten. For the rest of the walk, my poor husband had to listen to me rant about the cheeky squirrel and who knows whoever else, having eaten all the apples and nuts, depriving my poor fox of her evening meal. My carefully laid plans had been thwarted by other greedy wildlife. I thought about putting out some more, but it was dark, and I was tired. I didn’t want to do it all over again, so I went to bed, admitting defeat.

Foxes are often depicted as cunning, tricky, or magical in European and East Asian folklore and shapeshifting foxes are a common feature in folklore from many cultures. Perhaps I wasn’t destined to catch her on camera.

But I knew I’d given it my best shot. If this didn’t work, I would have to admit defeat.

The next morning, I awoke to a blanket of snow, and it was still falling. Despite my excitement, (as I talk about further in my recent article ‘Snow’) I wondered if it would have deterred my fox from making an appearance. Would she be somewhere cosy? Keeping warm? Just how far did she have to venture to get to my garden? I had no idea. And if she did show, would I even get to witness it? Or would the snow on the camera have obscured my view. I loaded up my camera footage with trepidation, and waited…

I gasped when I saw that almost all my footage for the entire night, was of the fox. I was elated! As it turned out, it was the fox herself who stole all the food. I don’t think any of the other wildlife got a look in. From the moment the sun dropped behind the horizon, my fox was there, happily munching on crunchy apples and nuts, showing no fear. My efforts had been rewarded.

I was glad of my patience when the camera revealed a beautiful close-up of her face as she took one of the apples. She then allowed herself to be filmed as she held down a monkey nut with her black tinted paw, broke it open, and ate it. I was granted a front row seat as she demonstrated her powerful jaws and razor-sharp teeth. I was in awe. Yet also a little concerned for the sweet little rabbit that the camera captured shortly afterwards. Then there was the tiny field mouse I spotted nibbling on some seed in the exact spot where I’d witnessed the fox’s antics, mere minutes beforehand, having no idea how close it had come to being her next meal.

I whiled away a happy hour playing the footage and feeling as though I was being given a window into another world. The very first fox we captured on camera, when we first arrived, had a limp. I regularly worried for its well-being. I have no way of knowing if this is the very same fox, but I truly hope that it is, as she is healthy and strong, with a beautiful bushy tail and a healthy appetite.

I was incredibly happy with my win, but it turned out that the fox had yet another surprise in store for me. What was it? Find out next week in PART TWO.

Do you have a wildlife camera? If so, which creatures visit you most often?

Thank you to all my subscribers for making this publication a success. If you would like to witness more of the foxes’ antics and support Notes from Nature, you may wish to consider becoming a paid subscriber. Proceeds will go towards wildlife food, creating habitats and installing live feed wildlife cameras.