The Happiness of Foxes

My working day started at a poor and shabby bus stop filled with the scent of Chanel No.5, and ended in the woods. The Entling had a hospital appointment so I was there by myself for the first time.

From the moment I unlocked the door of the portocabin, I noticed the creaking and rustling all over the wood. Seemed the trees and even the cabin itself had something to say, a ruckus that just got louder as I walked through leaves and acorn bombs. Stumbling into a hole under the yews, I thought the genius loci was being proper ungracious; in fact it had chucked me into a circle of curious mushrooms I can't identify yet, but they were very sweet.

I did a quick litter pick up, and then tried to tidy my bug hotel.

http://smokingboot.tumblr.com/post/62419668920/a-bug-hotel

Now, this bug hotel is my first ever construction, and as you can see, from a bug's point of view it's a colossus of luxury, an entomological version of the Ritz, or that 8star hotel shaped like a sail in Dubai. It is possible that I am overselling my efforts; suffice it to say that as a former stranger to power tools and ecology, I am very pleased with my attempt. Unfortunately so are the local foxes, who view it less as a bug hotel and more as a glorious playpen for cubs, full of lagging and cardboard and twigs, and stuff to pull out and stuff to dig into...

It's a chore putting it all back together, but it made me smile anyway; all right, it's going to be a nuisance for wintering lacewings and ladybirds if our vulpine visitors keep this up, but they are playing because they're happy. That's a grand thing. There's a meme going round facebook saying, 'You will be judged on the happiness of your fox.'

It's a good place to start.