I am the fox-wisperer

OMG.

Last night Margot, Laura (Edinburgh friends) and I spontaneously traversed a Scottish hillside seeking adventure and exercise. Just three lively post-grad gals looking to reconnect with nature, ya know? HA. It was also a good opportunity to showcase our hiking-chic look.

Once we reached the top we sat down to enjoy the beaUtiful, twinkly, Edinburgh skyline. Instinctively, I led them in a guided meditation to find their spirit animals. That's just what you do when it's nighttime and you're outdoors and you have exhausted every possible would-you-rather question. Camp was a spirit-animal menagerie this Summer, thanks to Jenny's earthy hypnosis skills. Thus, I felt qualified to assist Margot and Laura in their hunt for their creaturely companion.

In the end, Laura discovered hers to be a short-haired, shiny, chestnut brown mare. Margot's was a fox. Mine, for anyone who cares, is a mountain goat.

Here's where the story becomes blog-worthy.

On the walk back down the ridge, a FOX leaped into the path from behind a bush! AHHHHH!!!

It was black. It had ears. It snarled its teeth at us.

We froze, screamed and desperately tried to move our trembling legs back up the hillside.

Eventually, we made it home in one piece (well, three pieces I suppose), but the nerves have been forever rattled. FOXES. ARE. SCARY.

Love,

Margaret

P.S. I forgot to include the thesis point in all this-- I CAN CONJURE UP FOXES WITH MY MIND.

(From a different night, obviously. But that's Laura on MY right- YOUR left. And Margot's on MY left- YOUR right.)