They were curious. 2 little kit fox pups. Mama sat at a distance, but watched carefully.
We found ourselves with potential to enjoy Thanksgiving Day uniquely. It is my favorite spot to camp. A simple spot. Unassuming. You'd pass right by it normally. It is nothing to most people. Just a hint of desert.
It invited me at 2 am one stormy February night, as my husband and father hurriedly packed our 2 tents and supplies in the midst of a passionate monsoon. I held tight to our toddler son, waiting in the car anxiously for the men to pile all gear on the top of the subaru. Through the rain and rising water beneath our car (the road was becoming a river), I looked up the hill to see a space of desert unphased by the rising water. It was an invitation I could not pass up.... eventually. That monsoon gave us pass to leave with a warning: as we floated, in part, out of Death Valley NP that early morning, though we learned later that several fellow campers required rescuing from the canyon in which we camped.
Our next trip to Death Valley National Park was rewarded by 3 grazing bighorned sheep eloquently moving through the campsite we were previously invited to.
Rich has pictures. Scroll down in this link, if you seek visuals of the place I reference here. http://richalaska.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html
As the sun sank on Thanksgiving day, many years and many Death Valley NP trips later, I was not surprised to see the flashing, curious eyes of 2 kit fox pups and a distant mama fox. My children were delighted to watch the playful pups in the distance.
We were careful that Thanksgiving evening to not leave turkey and mashed potato crumbs on the sandy floor of our campsite. However, the next morning when we climbed out of our tent to the humble magic of a radiant desert sun, we spent quite some time cleaning our campsite of fox poop. It was a resounding weekend. Nature spoke to my family and we were grateful.