I walked the footpath from home down to the River Darenth – cold, blue sky, low bright sun and frost lifting in the late morning.  Not much about until a dog fox (I think, since he appeared large) trotted the path in front of me.  He worked a wet pasture half-heartedly and only looked up when I closed the stile too sharply, and then disappeared into the woodland by the river.  Scolding magpies kept an eye. I carried on, stodged about close to the river and found little but on my return I found him curled in the field edge enjoying the sun.  With the river behind he only had to keep watch to the front; he seemed to know he was on safe ground.  I will look for him again.

Snoozing fox on a warm day.