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Two foxes in the wood behind our flats this morning just before sunrise: one hidden in the bushes, calling repeatedly in that half-bark, half-yelp that is characteristic of foxes, the other silently trotting through the frosted undergrowth towards a flock of wood pigeons pecking at our lawn.  The pigeons flew up into a tree and the fox turned turned away, disappearing from my sight behind a wall.

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