Well, today was the day I was going to ride 1,000 miles in less than 24 hours, motorcycling across six states to accomplish the Iron Butt Association's Saddle Sore 1,000 endurance ride, but the weather didn't cooperate, which means I'll just try another day.
So, instead of a motorcycle adventure story, I'll show you a photo of a fox:
One night, about a year ago, we heard what we thought were the screams of a woman being stabbed to death out in the woods beside our house. I'll be honest and tell you that those blood-curdling screams could have made a grown man pee in his pants -- not that I did, of course.
Come to find out, it was a fox, and the screams probably had something to do with kinky fox mating rituals, which we'll not talk about here because this is a Rated PG site.
Anyways, that's when we knew we had foxes.
Yesterday, as I was waiting to see how the weather was going to be for the Saddle Sore 1,000, I saw the fox heading down our driveway, away from the house. I'd seen him the day before, wanted to take a photo of him, but he was gone before I could grab my camera.
A few hours later when my wife left for work, she hollered at me that the fox had just jumped into the woods right in front of her. So, like a good photographer, I grabbed my camera and waited on the front porch with hopes that the fox would return.
I count myself as a photojournalist. That's what I did in the military for five years. And every good photojournalist follows one truth -- do whatever it takes to get the photograph.
So I waited. Waited and kept as still and quiet as I could.
I didn't have to wait long.
These two guys never even saw me.
As I was sitting there, snapping photographs, I kept thinking what a wonderful gift it was to be able to even see theses guys. It doesn't happen every day, even in the country. I also kept thinking about how some people would have grabbed their rifles instead of their cameras and engaged in a bit of target practice on these two pups.
I'm just glad I was able to shoot these guys the way I did -- before someone shot them the other way.
And that's my Fantastic Mr. Fox story. It isn't as good as Roald Dahl's story, but I've got better pictures!