Friday evening and the snow is still lying thickly. I’m walking past our local park on the way home. A passing car halts a little way ahead of me, headlights illuminating a fox sitting in the middle of the road grooming itself. The fox doesn’t move, just continues to clean its fur. Time passes and eventually the driver sounds the car horn twice. With the second blast of the horn the fox moves. It wanders across the road, disappearing into a garden.