Who ever said complaining doesn’t work?
We are driving down a familiar highway into a sunset. Conversation is relaxed and intermittent.
My brother asks about my next blog post. I bemoan that events have conspired against my wildlife photography in the last few weeks. Am I still a wildlife photographer if I’m not taking any photos? It’s not exactly a direct answer.
A little while later, my brother casually mentions that he sees a fox in a monotone voice suitable for noting a small change in the price of gas. What?
I immediately demand to know where the fox is while squeezing the brakes. When I learn it disappeared into the trees, I let off the brakes knowing that it’s most likely a lost cause. I’ve seen that movie before. We keep driving.
My daughter laughingly tells my brother that when driving with her dad, wildlife sightings always create a big fuss. It is a novel concept for him.
The sun drops lower into my eyes making driving more difficult. The kilometres drift by.
Suddenly my brother says there’s another fox – this time with a lot more enthusiasm. I quickly manoeuvre to the side of the road and my daughter hands me the camera. I immediately discover a dead battery. Sheesh. I quickly change batteries. Spare camera batteries can be one of my best friends! I take a test shot through the window and quietly open the door.
Foxes aren’t exactly the dullest knife in the drawer so I know that it will notice me. Still I don’t want to make excessive noise or movement that might scare it off. I sit down in the ditch and take aim. My plan works. The fox looks up, decides I’m not a threat and keeps on hunting.
In short order, the fox and I are both successful. It grabs a snack and I get some shots. Soon we are both heading off into the sunset with smiles on our faces.
I wonder if the fox also complained about not getting anything to eat?