Just a stone’s throw away from our parking ‘bay’ on the road to Burrator, at the start of our walk around the reservoir and surrounding area – we came across a fox exposed in tooth and claw; it was a dead fox.   It lay undisturbed in the shade of the Hawthorn grove, befittingly veiled in a tracery of delicate mourning lace of Mother Nature’s own weaving. The fox had probably been hit by a car before daybreak.

While the fox lay ‘sleeping’ – other Dartmoor creatures (including us) were going about their day – and what a beautiful day on Dartmoor it was to drink in views and breathe clean air.  Whether human, bird or beast, life is sweet – and never more acutely than when everything is so vivid…

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Two months on since our last visit to this exact spot and nothing seemingly had been disturbed; the fox still lay ‘sleeping’ – only skin, bones and matted fur remained and a sprinkle of Hawthorn blossom to mark the passage of time.

In memory of a beautiful Dartmoor fox.