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  • Just beyond the snow fence that runs the length of this little arctic village, protecting it from a severe buildup of snow that winds will carry across tens of miles of flat tundra and frozen lagoons I had an encounter with a fox. It circled me, stopping to lay down in the snow and peer at me, then got up to circle me again--this time closer, stopping to dig at the snow while keeping a sideways eye on my movements. I must have been a thing of curiosity--out there beyond the edge of town, in the dark, hunkered over my camera, photographing the aurora as it danced faintly, quietly in the north sky. I wasn't moving much and I was low to the ground. Maybe this is what inspired this little guy to approach and temporarily sit in my presence, sniffing a light wind just eight feet away from me. Maybe its belly was full--the walrus that locals had shot out on the point was still a gut pile with little fox prints all around it.

    Every time I go out into the arctic air, something magical seems to happen. I wonder what's in store for today?

    (Photographer's note: this is not the best quality photograph, but it is an ethereal documentation of the moment that happened to me and a red fox a few nights ago 125 miles above the arctic circle).

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