Some see a man in the moon; still others, a rabbit. I see differently.
It's not often one comes across a dead fox in a city road--this one was both quite fresh and quite gone. I confess to screaming in the car and being upset the remainder of the day. When you paint animals often, it's difficult to not feel you know them on some level, especially when--like foxes--you can encounter them in the wild. The foxes in our local cemetery remain one of my favorite reasons for walking there, and I owe them many a favorite moment. Without having met the dead fox, I had a sense of owing him, too. Thus, "When the Moon Comes Down."