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The First Turnout

April 20, 2026

I pulled into the first turnout on Moose Wilson Road.

It was a normal morning. The kind where you are just hoping something shows up. Maybe a moose. Maybe an owl working the pond down below. Nothing unusual. Just getting out, seeing what is there.

I stepped out, took a look around, and settled in.

Then something moved behind me.

I turned, and there he was. A red fox. Maybe fifteen feet away. Just standing there.

It felt like he had been watching me for a while.

It caught me off guard more than I would like to admit.

I got the camera up quick, expecting him to bolt.

He did not.

He just started walking. Calm, steady, like I was not even there. Nose down, following some scent in the snow like he had a job to do and this was it.

I got one decent shot as he passed.

Then he crested a small hill and disappeared.

Just like that.

I stood there for a second, looking at where he had been, like maybe he would come back over.

He did not.

I never did see the moose.

But it did not feel like I missed anything.

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