I happened to be slightly ahead as we crested the first long hill leading from the ravine to the street where our house stands. My husband and little Riley were just behind me, as often happens. Riley toddles along at his own pace, undoglike, but perhaps like a little old dog would do, taking his time to get along. Just as we neared the top of the hill I saw a flash of rufous fur and thought it odd that any dog would whisk itself along at such a pace. But then, expecting to see someone coming along the trail toward us, that same dog in tow, it just didn't happen.

And it occurred to me tardily, that the colour I saw was very unlike any dog's pelt. So that, finally, I realized it wasn't a dog at all, but a red fox. It had been years, likely a good fifteen, since last we saw foxes in the ravine. Twenty years ago they were a common enough sight, and fearless, uncaring at our presence, remaining on the trail quietly watching as we proceeded on our own way.

When I told my husband he could hardly believe it. But when I related what I'd seen he agreed; it could not have been anything else. We'd been told by people who happen to go out for walks at dawn and at dusk that coyotes make their presence deep within the ravine, as well, since they'd seen them prowling about in dim light. Mostly during the winter months. We'd never seen any coyotes, however, in the ravine, and one might think they would occasionally howl, if they were there. Just as owls, dropping by to spend a few weeks or a month or the winter in the ravine make their presence known by their night-time hooting calls.

In any event, several days later, as we were well into our daily hike in the ravine, my husband and I happened to be strolling alongside one another on a broader portion of the trail that is very horizontal, when he suddenly excitedly called to me: 'fox'! Sure enough there was the fox, trotting from one side of the woods across the trail to the other. Not in a particular hurry. Its measured pace enabling us to fully appreciate its confidence in its environment, and the beauty of its conformation.

Now, we know they're still around, although to be truthful, we had known they were still about. People living on the direct perimeter of the ravine had told us they often spot them, that their dens are nearby where their own homes are. But this was the first time in so many years we'd seen directly that they remain nearby. And now we're slightly more alert of Riley's presence alongside us in the ravine; his small size could represent a temptation to a fox. On the other hand, perhaps not; there is ample small wildlife for these beautiful predators for the foxes to satisfy their required nutritional intake.

We assume, we hope....