Outfoxed

Perspicacity is a word full of trickery. It has a meaning of shrewdness, intuition, and astute cleverness, but perhaps a bit more. In the far-reaching and wonderful world of creation, the fox might possibly be the epitome of perspicacity. A fox does not have great size or strength, nor do they possess endless tenacity like many of their animal cousins, but the determination of a crafty fox from long ago might kindle the spark of a smile.

Once upon a time in a snowy land far away from coconuts and palm trees and the playful dolphins who guard the special island of Never-Neverland, a particular fox who was neither young nor old was daydreaming in his den and wishing he could have the power and the knowledge to possess fire.

The fox was always craving power, and throughout his mortal searches for awareness and understanding, he began to covet what he could not possess or control. The upright creatures with only two legs, it seemed, were the only ones who knew the secret of fire. The open fires were the most fascinating. The open fires with the dancing flames were the most elusive and obviously harder to control, but the smaller fires that could be contained within the gathered stones were the best fires of all.

One day after the shortest day of the season and the New Year had begun, the daydreaming fox became determined to solve the mystery of fire. Like most foxes everywhere, his foxy way was to sneak, spy, and gather whatever was unsuspecting.

When the fox set out on the snowy path of winter, he was indeed determined. He desperately wanted the secret of fire, and he knew he could not rest until the most coveted secret was under his control.

Deep in the valley and well below the fox’s den, the beavers were hard at work. Although the winding waterway was ice in many places and only moving along the rocks and the edge of the dam, the beavers were working without pause. The fox with perspicacity was not interested in the work, but when he approached with a pretense of friendship, his question was to the overseer of the construction. “Might you know, my dear cousin, the secret of fire?”

The busy beaver looked up with disdain. “What you’re asking is trouble,” she said with a scowl. “Have you not seen what fire can do? Even the uprights cannot control it. I do know, however, the flames after they die leave glowing seeds on the ground.”

The fox nodded his thanks, but as he went on his way, his smile was sly.

When the fox became cold and truly began to covet the secret of the flames, he crept into a cave but came upon a bear who was sleeping. Even with all his stealth, the bear awoke, and the sly fox knew at once that he must take advantage of the trouble.

“Pray tell, dear cousin,” the foxy voice was oily. “Might you know the secret of fire?”

The bear was watching the fox with hungry intent, but manners were manners after all, and even in the dim light of the cave, the fox was looking scrawny, greedy, and not worth the effort, so the bear replied with his linage of wisdom. “What you seek is unknown to me. I have heard the secret of fire comes alongside the rain from the sky, but to find the answer you must ask our clever cousins who can fly.”

Once again, the sly fox nodded his thanks and gave voice to his gratitude but secretly, he was happy the bear was sleepy and did not want a clever cousin for supper.

Armed with the new knowledge, the fox once again set out along the winding watercourse until he came upon a huge tree with branches as big as the bear. When he looked up to search for a cousin of the sky, his sly but very sharp eyes came across an owl who was still roosting in the last light of a short winter day.

“Pray tell,” The familiar voice rose up to the highest of the snowy branches. “Do you, oh most wise cousin of all, know the secret of fire?”

The owl pretended to sleep, but the fox was always irritating, and the voice of insincerity rose up and broke snowy solitude. Before the fox could continue, the owl dropped to the lowest branch and looked at the fox carefully. “The secret of fire is waiting in the sky. To learn it, you must climb to the highest cliff and jump. Keep your eyes closed and you will be able to fly. The secret is waiting for any who care to look.”

Delighted with finally finding the answer, the wily fox began to climb. He carefully rose above all the other cousins with his effort to find the highest cliff. When he finally arrived and looked down over the icy watercourse, he wasted no time with the view and instantly jumped. Why should he wait? His time was valuable. He had been searching for the secret of fire until winter was almost over and the sun was shouting springtime.

At first, the flight was wonderful, but the suspense of waiting in the tearing wind was irresistible. When the sly fox, who was the epitome of perspicacity, opened his eyes, he knew he was outfoxed. The icy water next to the beaver dam was only an instant away.

To help other cousins find their way, foxfire now grows on very old trees. The mysterious glow comes from a type of mushroom and tells the tale of a scheming fox, an industrious beaver, a sleepy bear, and a wise old owl who could always outfox a fox.