Today I read a beautiful blog on wolves, how their presence to the writer was suddenly made aware. It brought to mind 'The Thought-Fox written by Ted Hughes. That moment when the fox/poem takes form in his head and daintily steps onto the paper.
It also reminds me of looking out of the window of the Bath house and seeing my teenage son kneeling on the lawn holding his hand out to a fox that was very familiar in the garden. This fox would sleep in the bed of flowers by my rabbits - yes I knew what he was after! Only once did he get his teeth into one of my angora rabbits, and she screamed so loudly he let go and she escaped without injury.
THE THOUGHT-FOX
I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.
Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:
Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now
Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business
Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.
Something to think over...
I have loved that poem for years. Ted Hughes was a fantastic poet and so observant of the natural world. I am always amazed to see urban foxes on tv. They are so bold compared to our wary rural foxes.
ReplyDeleteI suppose it is evolution that makes the urban fox so canny on the street. You cannot beat Ted Hughes for capturing the awesomeness of nature, especially 'The Pike'.
ReplyDeleteFox are cool in their predatory behavior but a cog in the great scheme of life.
ReplyDeleteWe need them all in the end, hunting them in this country is supposedly at the end but the hunters still ride out resplendent in their red coats and 'accidentally' get a fox.
DeleteI'd never seen that poem before. I saved it to read again. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteTed Hughes always captures the mood, even though his words are often dark.
DeleteI've not seen 'our foxes' since mid-autumn. I trust they have gone deeper into the ravine. I suppose if I had hens or rabbits I wouldn't admire the foxes--the games of prey and predator leave us needing to 'take sides.'
ReplyDeleteI think predatory animals have a place in the natural order of things and we should respect them Sharon. Never seen one here but there is a lot of hunting that goes on.
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