Went for a hike in the Flatirons today in Boulder. Noted, in my peripheral vision, a little ball of chestnut fur leaping through the grass so I stopped. A little fox popped out and onto a rock. So I sat. We watched each other for awhile…and a little longer, until it moved to the next rock, seemingly stalking something on the way, its bushy, black tail swishing, gray and sleek muzzle leading the way. It popped onto that rock and looked out over the top of the grass, tail curling neatly around itself. We watched each other again. Now and then I’d hear something that didn’t fit in. So would the fox. We’d both look towards the sound. So much more it must hear!
What I couldn’t help but wonder was, did the fox take pleasure in simply BEING in its surroundings as I was? Is there a part of that fox’s little brain, not occupied with thoughts of food, shelter, reproduction, food, and more food that processes emotion attached to its surroundings?
Did it enjoy the sound of the wind brushing the pines that buffered the sounds of the city below? Do the sights or the smells (not of food) that surround it make it feel content?
Does a fox find sensory pleasure in its forays into the woods/hills/trees as I do?