An Encounter With Vulpes Vulpes In London: Nature In An Urban Environment


Last night was one of those evenings where it occurred to me that I had been sedentary for far to long.

It was approaching midnight, and I had emailed a few urgent emails, completed a liturgy for an upcoming handfasting of two wonderful people, had watched the football on tv, and had just picked up a book to read. Sedentary, that the thought that occurred to me. It was if my whole body was experiencing restless leg syndrome and not just my legs, and it yearned for movement.

The best option seemed to be to go for a walk, and that’s what I did.

I’m back in the city, in my small ground floor maisonette in a central London borough, which nestles very close to the River Thames. I am surrounded by city parks, an abundance of wonderful cafes, and densely packed housing, And so, with the thought of movement in mind, I strode manfully out of the door at midnight.

’Solvitur ambulando.’ A Latin phrase meaning, ‘It is solved by walking.’

The streets, well at least the side streets, here, and not the main road in the distance, were deserted, empty of people and devoid of moving cars. It felt great to be in the city and yet have space to myself. Surrounded by thousands of people and yet no one in sight. Oh the people were there. Inside their houses, curtains drawn, and in some the light from the tv flickering away was perceptible, but only just, as I walked by.

I thought I might walk towards Parsons Green, and to get there I’d have to walk down a long, well-lit side street. It had now just gone midnight, and I was half way along that street, and it felt, unnervingly, as if I was being watched. I purposely stopped, looked around, expecting to see a stalker or some ne’er-do-well, but saw nothing. No one.

’Being a nocturnal creature myself, I often find myself in dark alleys or strange places late at night. If there were werewolves around, I’d be likely to run into them, being the night owl that I am.’ Dean Ambrose

I continued walking, and still the feeling of being watched persisted. I carried on walking and the line of cars parked either side of the road ended. I was passing by a school and the road marking prohibited parking at that point. I walked on about thirty paces further on, giving enough time for my stalker to be denied the shelter of parked cars, and I stopped, turned around in the most untimid manner I could muster, and faced my stalker. And, there he was.

Vulpes Vulpes.

Yes, my stalker, my ‘watcher in the night’, was a rather splendid, well-fed red fox. Fulham has many urban foxes on its street, and most can be heard, or seen, or smelled when they move about at night.

My companion was about twenty (human) paces behind me, and he too, stopped, and just looked at me. I didn’t move a muscle. Not afraid, but I didn’t want to scare this little chap away. I stopped for some time. He remained still.
Looking at me, his little head cocked to one side as if trying to solve a mystery of what I was doing. I felt the urge to do the same, but resisted it.

It is thought that there are about 150,000 foxes in the England. Here in London they scavenge their food from litter bins and so their food is usually an unhealthy diet of human food scraps, consisting of curry, chips, fish fingers and bacon butties, and as were near the Thames, maybe the odd water rat or two. Considered by man to be a nuisance, I have to admit that I am in awe of nature as it pushes back to reclaim, in part, the domain that was once solely its world. And, the fox is a particular favourite. I admit crows come a close second and they can be seen early morning and throughout the day in Fulham, but I love foxes, especially city foxes. And, this particular fox was still looking at me, and had sat down.

Did you know: The red fox is the most common type of fox, but there are about 47 different subspecies of red fox; Foxes belong to the dog family and use similar facial expressions and body postures to pet dogs, such as wagging their tails when greeting family members; Foxes have strong family ties. Young foxes often stay with their parents for a few years and help raise future cubs.

Having watched this wonderful beast for sometime I turned away and carried on walking. But only for a few paces. I stopped and deliberately turned. He had moved, about the same distance I had covered and had stopped when I had stopped, and was still twenty paces behind me. I laughed, and walked on and stopped. I turned and there he was. Twenty paces behind. I was nearing Parsons Green, and so stopped one last time, turned, and…he was gone. I felt a little loneliness creep in, having lost my companion and that feeling of being watched.

There are some who say that when humankind was in its infancy and we lived in peace with all animals, that communication between humans and animals, and vice versa, was possible. Others say that in that world of blurred boundaries, even shape-shifting was possible. Are these ideas true, or metaphorical or romantic? That’s a rhetorical question, as I don’t need an answer as I love mystery, and however we interpret those ancient-world notions, there is always something to learn.

There are some others who believe that animals that appear ‘out of nowhere’ and come unusually close to us are attracted by our inner being, our soul. Have you ever been somewhere and an animal or insect has come close, perhaps too close, and unexpectedly so, to surprise you?

Or, perhaps, they say, the animal companion (for a while) is a manifestation of our soul.

In Philip Pullman’s fantasy trilogy ‘His Dark Material’, Lyra Belacqua has an (external) animal representation of her (inner) soul which manifests itself as a red moth when she’s a child, but as a red-gold pine marten when she’s an adult.

Or perhaps an unexpected animal, the red fox in this case, is a messenger from That Which Is Bigger Than Ourselves (and who cannot but remember those old Sunday School stories of Balaam’s donkey and its urgent spoken message?).

’We need another and wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals…We patronise them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form far below ourselves. And therein we err, and err greatly. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost…living by voices we shall never hear.’ Henry Beston

Being a man in this age, ofcourse I wanted to know. And so, I researched something about the red fox, and sadly discovered that they are generally hated as a terrible nuisance on city streets. Okay, I accept in January, or thereabouts, the cry of the vixen, can sound like a baby’s cry, and can be somewhat unnerving or alarming on city streets, and the result of all those curries they eat does make a mess on the pavement – and what an awful smell! But, they are wonderful creatures.

They have lost much of their habitat to humankind (and if truth be known it is us who are a nuisance to them, as they were her first), are they are sorely misunderstood, and present no real danger. I like the idea of nature ‘pushing back’ in the city, as if to say, ‘I’m still here, and I don’t mind sharing, but just share with me, too, please’.

Understanding wild creatures is one thing, but there’s more. There is a point where we can so draw near to them that we can sense them – and I do believe that being ’watched’ feeling I had, or the surprise you might have had when an animal or inset came unusually close to you, is part of an intuitive sensing and connectedness with that animal that we might experience in short bursts, but our ancient ancestors, druids, celts and others would have experienced it much more or perhaps all the time. Lucien Levy-Bruhl, a French philosopher, calls this ‘participation mystique’ (mystical participation) and it occurs beyond our logical, rational thought processes. It is like a ‘sense’ that we have but seldom use now , but it can be increased by usage, like a muscle, if we choose to exercise it.

Foxes, I believe, are a gift from the Universe, from That Which Is Bigger Than Us, and are a reminder that nature is abundant and beneficent, ubiquitous (even in the city) and to be enjoyed, and can be understood at a cerebral and knowledge-level, but also by that ‘sensing’, by taking hold of that mystical participation of deep connectedness at a soul level that our ancestors possessed.

And so, I’m almost back home, having completed my walk. I’ve walked for almost an hour, my fox-companion is nowhere to be seen, the streets are still deserted, but I am left wondering: just a chance encounter, a shape-shifter, an outward reflection of my inner soul, or a guardian of some kind who kept me safe from an otherwise dangerous event, or a messenger from Beyond? Thank God for Vulpes Vulpes.

What was the meaning of that encounter? No, don’t answer it. I want to revel in the mystery of not knowing cerebrally, as it brings me (and us) closer to the Mystery.



13 thoughts on “An Encounter With Vulpes Vulpes In London: Nature In An Urban Environment

  1. Good as ever to read your piece. I have been writing about the same thing this week (except about sheep!) and it’s a tricky subject. Something we feel and know but when on paper can sound cooky. Thanks. Hope you don’t mind me quoting from it on my blog. (With references of course).

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wonderful. That quote from Henry Beston raised hairs on the back of my neck. You could apply it to trees and other plants too, indeed all the other manifestations of nature, of which we are a small part. Blessings.


    • I’m pleased you liked the article, Linda. Yes, that Beston quote is one of my favourites as it puts everything is perspective. Many blessings, Tadhg.


  3. I am not sure why my comment this morning is not here, but. I will try and remember what I wrote!
    Thanks for your blog. I too have been writing about that connection between humans and animals (or other) and it is a hard line to draw between being honest about what we feel and not sounding cooky. I think you did a great job. I hope you don’t mind me stealing some of it for my blog. In quotes with reference of course.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think this system keeps the first ever comment someone makes in abeyance until I click ‘ok’, and then any comments after that appear in real time. Apologies your earlier comment didn’t appear. It should be visible now, with my reply. Many thanks for reading the article. Do stay in touch. Blessings to you and yours, Tadhg.


  4. Oh, I loved this. I’m thoroughly convinced that one day again we will converse with the animals. That they will come to our aid in dire times, as they did in Narnia, and the trees also. We have much mystery yet to unfold in the future. There’s a particularly beautiful story told in the book “Synchronicity” by Joseph Jaworski about an encounter he had with a white ermine on a snowy day. I think I quoted in my book “Thresholds and Passages” if you still have it. The book is well worth buying Tadhg. You would love it. Cheers, my friend, on this the day of the Summer Solstice.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for your positive comment, Cathee. I’m glad you liked the article. Yes, I do believe the link and communication between animals/nature was once closer than now, and possible. And that one day it will be as it was in former days. Some call it the Great Turning, or perhaps Great Returning is a better description. I’ve got your book on my bookshelf so will look up that quote you mentioned, and check out Jaworski’s book. Many thanks for that reference. Love to you and your family, Tadhg.


  5. Tadhg, I was lucky enough this year to watch a fox family born and raise under my garden shed. Well, of course I didn’t see them being born, but I know the night they were born and watched the dad make many forays into the woods to get food for mom as she nursed the kits. Mom is one of the beautiful red fox variations called a silver fox. I also witnessed him moving the kits when they got old enough to leave the den. I expect it was because of my dogs. He moved them one by one to another den. We were all sad to see them go, but, there’s more!! They came back a few weeks ago for a couple of weeks and now they are out and about doing fox things. I have no doubt one or more will come back in the fall. The Red Fox was recently voted in as our provincial animal and I’m happy about that. They are amazing creatures that could teach us a thing or two about family. Thank you for sharing your encounter with vulpes vulpes and I hope you enjoyed reading the condensed version of mine.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Apologies for the delay in replying. Sometimes the WordPress system of displaying comments and replies confuses me. Mea culpa. I’m pleased you liked the article, and I’m very pleased you replied. I enjoyed your report, too. They are fascinating creatures. Mark Nepo would say, I believe, that such foxes are ‘quiet teachers’ that could teach us much. Do let me know if other come back. Meanwhile, many blessings, Tadhg.


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