I went out for a few things after dinner tonight. When I returned home, I pulled into the driveway and stopped short.
A fox, not much bigger than a cat really, paused momentarily to stare back into the car’s headlights. His whiskers twitched and his eyes burned pale yellow. His fur shimmered in the light and seemed almost to glow, alive and white against the cold black of night. As I watched, he crept away with shoulders hunched. Suspicious, he glanced backward at me as he hastened toward the nearby woods. Paws padded gracefully over the ice-glazed driveway and he was gone.
But still my heart leapt. Because he was beautiful and unexpected. And like all things beautiful and unexpected, he spoke to me of something bigger and more majestic even than a snow shrouded fox that disappears into a winter night. He spoke of God.