My senses lay exposed, like nerves on the outside, and my gaze was fixed, unblinking, on the world around me. I searched the forest for a glimpse of something stirring – something worth capturing. Then, deeper in the woods, in a clearing scattered with felled trees, I caught sight of something red-hued resting atop a stump.
I crept closer and discovered a young fox, curled up in the hush of its midday slumber. My zoom lens couldn’t bring me close enough, so I relied on the zoom-function in my legs. The forest floor was littered with twigs and branches, and the fox’s keen hearing made every step a gamble. But fortune favored me: the ground was softened by the morning’s heavy rain, and the silence held.
I reached a breath’s distance from the fox. I had no wish to wake it – only to watch, to photograph, and to vanish again like mist. But fate had other plans. A pair of loud voices drifted in from a nearby path, breaking the spell. The fox lifted its head, its gaze meeting mine from ten meters away. Then, without panic, it rose and slipped silently into the undergrowth.