Poem: I want every wildlife encounter to be like a childhood dream, full of myth and magic, and old folk fables. On the Skerwink Trail, I encountered this red fox. Who is this fox? I want to know. Is she the fire fox of legend? Igniting the skies in the crisp cold air of a far northern night? Her bushy tail sparking the windswept brittle grasses? Is she the shapeshifting artful fox of Irish lore? Playing games in the early morning light?