I heard its calls first. They were faint and I wasn't sure what I was hearing. Those calls sound a bit like a person in pain, someone screaming, and chills went down my spine. But I was curious, so I went to the window and opened it a bit to hear better.

I recognised the sound then. Never heard it in the wild before, I think, but I have heard recordings, and it was fairly clear. Looking outside, I realised there were paw prints in the snow outside in the street. I stayed there, listening, for a while. The cats were excited. I had to hold onto my kitten so she wouldn't go out onto the window sill. Then I closed the window, and soon it grew silent. I was about to turn away and get back to my laptop when I suddenly saw it emerge from a garden across the street.

It was a lot bigger than I thought it would be, and looked less red than I imagined, even in the yellow street light; more brown, a little speckled. But it was a beautiful sight. I quickly turned off the light and got my phone out to try and take its picture. I was lucky, because it stood there in the street for a long moment before it turned its nose north and trotted off. Majestic. 

After it had gone, I went outside to look at its paw prints. The first set, the ones I'd seen to begin with, ran north to south. I followed them down the road, until they turned east and disappeared up between the houses and gardens. It must have turned north again somewhere in there, before it came back to the street right in front of my house. How lucky was I? Then it went back the way it came. I didn't follow. Wouldn't want to spook it, and it was probably long gone anyway. I heard no more calls.

Sometimes, it pays to be awake at three in the morning. Because foxes are nocturnal creatures.