Fox Steals the Dark – a Story for Winter

But Fox is not one to start a fight.  Fox is cunning and tricky, and more inclined to hide in wait, to work subtly.  And so Fox began by studying us for a long time.  We didn’t notice, but all unawares, we showed Fox everything Fox needed to know about our relationship to the darkness and the light.  Fox saw our veneration of the light, saw how we thought it vulnerable and precious.  Fox saw our contempt for the darkness, saw how we thought it certain and of little worth.

And then Fox concocted a plan.  Fox could see that the darkness too rose and fell, ebbed and flowed, that we should fear for its safety, mourn its diminishment, and hope fervently for its return.  And Fox knew that the only way we would come to see this for ourselves was if the darkness disappeared entirely.  And so, the trickster decided to steal it!

Fox was pleased with the plan.  And so, one day at noon, when the darkness had curled up as small as it can get, and the light was pouring out onto the land, the Fox approached on silent red paws.  Silent as only a Fox can be, Fox crept toward the darkness.

Until, all at once, Fox pounced!  Fox seized the startled darkness in Fox paws and bundled the darkness away into a sack.  Fox carried that sack down to Fox den, and sealed up the door.  And then, very carefully, Fox opened up that sack, and the darkness filled the den, so dense and thick that even Fox with those dawn-dusk eyes could not see a single thing.

Darkness did not speak, but Fox sensed a wondering at this sudden turn of events, so quietly and carefully, Fox began to tell the story.  How Fox could see the darkness fraying.  How Fox was worried about the darkness.  How Fox discovered the people’s attacks, and decided they could only learn the value of the darkness if it disappeared for a while.  Now Fox had darkness in the den, and thought that a time of rest and restoration was in order.  Fox would do everything Fox could to help the darkness heal.  What did darkness need?

Darkness did not speak, but Fox sensed an acceptance, and heard the longing for love.  For stories of celebration for darkness, for songs and dances and paintings and renderings in glass and cloth, for all the love that the people had poured out upon light for all these years.