A Fox in the Mist

Today, I took another short drive through the countryside near Kushiro. The weather was disappointing. I visited several capes along the Pacific coast, but thick fog had swallowed the ocean and the horizon. Standing at the viewpoints, there was almost nothing to see except white mist drifting in from the sea.

On my way back, something unexpected appeared. A young red fox was standing in the middle of the road. I stopped the car, expecting it to run away. Instead, it slowly walked toward me. It looked surprisingly calm, almost curious. The fox seemed young and rather thin, and for a brief moment we simply looked at each other.

I wondered if it had become accustomed to people. Perhaps tourists had fed it before. That thought made me uneasy. Feeding wild animals may seem kind, but it often does more harm than good. Once they lose their natural fear of people and cars, they become far more vulnerable to accidents. As I watched the fox standing on the road, I couldn’t help but wonder whether it would survive another season.

The landscapes I had hoped to photograph remained hidden behind the fog today. Yet I walked through silent forests, watched seabirds gathering on rocky cliffs, and met a wild fox at close range. Sometimes, travel is not about finding the views you planned to see. It is about being surprised by something you never expected. Today, the fog hid the scenery—but it revealed something else.