We laid out our picnic, grateful
to have found a quiet spot on this pleasant day.
The park though large and rambling was popular
with families and couples alike so it was nice
to have found a niche, a sleepy hollow
where few seemed to tread.
With only the faint hum of the city in the background
we sat civilised with our wine, olives and brie
and watched nature doing its work around us.
Birds flew down to peck at stray crumbs;
a few rabbits went about their business
from a safe distance, heads bobbing up
and down, ever on watch.
And then from nowhere a fox strode into view.
Stopping mid stride he turned towards us.
Transfixed, we daren’t move
lest we frightened him away.
Unlike his mangy street cousins
this one was big and bold with a strong coat
and gleaming eyes that did not waver.
He seemed to hold our gaze forever
but really it was a matter of minutes
before he dismissed us as harmless
and trotted off to some unworldly place.
We went back to our rustic feast, confident
that we had witnessed something magical.