Resting seems a popular activity for foxes in these days of summer. The grass is still high around the fringes of the fields, but it is now mown in many of the meadows. Foxes, forever creatures of edges, curl up in tight balls where tall and cut grasses meet.

Tonight, I found a large, weary-looking fox on just such an edge.



His muzzle is a riddle of scars. He could surely tell a few stories



The vast majority of fox fights are loud but almost bloodless; the most common injury seems to be sprained leg muscles, the result of one protagonist toppling a rival down to the ground. More serious battles do occur, of course, but I've never witnessed one.

Bites were also in evidence in one of the paddocks this evening - though, in this case, it was mutual grooming.



Walking back down the lane, I found my path blocked by two adult roe deer It was one of those strange moments that is both a blessing and a nightmare to a photographer - my reactions had to be almost instananeous



The buck's antlers are completely free of velvet, the temporary, blood-rich skin that grows over the antler bone and is shed before the rut. As it happens, roe deer rut very early - right about now, in fact - and I doubt it was a concidence that he was with a doe. His antlers are rather crooked, however.



I watched them for a while as they tip-toed silently through the grasses, munching a little, and then entering the copse. The doe emerged from the far side a few minutes later, but I did not attempt to obtain more photos of her. My camera's last action for the evening was concerned with a slender young dogfox, who was exploring his own part of the lane in the swiftly gathering dusk