It was the fox’s scream that woke me. Half awake, I heard it again, then another sound I couldn’t identify. The third time, I realized the fox was very close; then a scuffling under my camper brought me fully awake. 

When I looked out, there was a grey fox, frozen in a stiff-legged stand-off with a bedraggled ginger and white cat. The cat was nearly under the camper; the fox only a couple of feet away. I watched for a moment, then, keeping a firm grip on Moe, opened the door and yelled “Scram!” Moe did his utmost to launch himself after the fox. Scooby raised his head and looked around blearily before flopping back down on the bed. The fox trotted off into the dense brush and the cat vanished.

After breakfast, I called the nearest campground to see if they had any availability. “Oh, you called last night,” the friendly lady on the other end said. “Yes, we have plenty of sites available.”

So, stow away everything loose inside the camper, unhook the water and electric, hitch up the car (which always takes lots of finicky maneuvering when there is no spotter to help), and drive all of 1/2 mile away, to do everything in reverse. This time, I managed to back neatly onto the concrete pad on only my second try (so proud!).

Now this is more like it! The campground sits inside a bend of the Jack’s Fork River: I can see it surging by from my window. I took a site at one end of a deserted loop, under the shade of walnut trees. Once set up, I walked the dogs down along the river on the gravel bank, then returned to make myself a second cup of chai and to let Russ know where I was. It’s still dreary, but brightening somewhat, so I will hope for sun.