Winter Solstice

Mrs Fox stretched and yawned. It had been a short night, she thought, listening to the abrupt alarm sound on Mr Fox’s side of the bed. He mumbled but did not otherwise stir.

Mrs Fox slipped out of bed and into her warm clothes, ready to get on with her morning - it was Winter Solstice, and the sun would wait for no Fox this morning!

Horses whinnying, dogs chasing around in the frosty pitch-black yard, Mrs Fox shovelled away in the stables whilst the four horses munched sleepily on their early breakfast. By the time she was on the the second stable, a tall, sleepy Mr Fox stepped into the barn and began to refill the empty haynets, by now lying on the floor of the barn ready for him.

“Morning, Foxy,” he smiled, from beneath his tall furry ears. She glanced over at him, pleased that he was ready for the Solstice celebration at nearest local stone circle, Arbor Lowe.

A swift breakfast of eggs from the girls, and they set off, well wrapped, to greet the new day. Through the dark they drove, watching the creeping light as it stole closer to the distant horizon.

Arriving at the stone circle, they set off briskly up the path, Millie the lurcher at their side, into the breaking dawn. A few other hardy souls had gathered, and were gently drumming as the time of the sunrise drew closer. Gentle chatter occasionally could be heard across the circle, but generally a sense of the new day, the beginning of the lighter season, was heralded with a respectful quiet from those present.

The sun rose, the drumming stopped, and Millie wildly careered in figures of eight around the stone circle and the burial mound of Arbor Lowe. She knew, thought the Foxes, smiling at each other, she simply knew.

Winter had started.