Late this afternoon, a sudden outburst of cawing took my eyes to the back of the field behind our house.
A half dozen crows were flying and squawking agitatedly not more than ten feet above the ground in the northwest corner. Then I saw what disturbed them.
A dusky red fox with a silver tipped tail trotted just under the birds across the twenty yards of open field. His deliberate jog seemed an insult to the angry crows. When he reached the tree line, they flew off in the opposite direction.
Peace returned to the meadow.