On my way out to search for some breakfast this morning, I drove up on the neighborhood fox. He was crouched at the side of the road, staring through the neighbor's rail fence at something in the tall grass. Whatever it was, he appeared to have marked it down for his breakfast menu, until I interrupted him.
After a moment, the fox leaped across the ditch, and I figured he was going to run off. Instead, he turned around and walked toward my car on the other side of the fence line. Then he stared into my eyes.
Either he'd never seen a Subaru, or he was trying to figure out why I needed a huge, noisy machine to scare up a meal.
I was out tracking the elusive plain scone because my study desk is awash in Ethics. I need to write an annotated bibliography, to be followed by a research paper, for one of the English classes on a topic that fits under the general rubric of Ethics. I am also hearing warning rumblings from the Ethics professor that we will be writing a paper for his class. While one can fantasize that one paper will do for both classes, it seems that the papers will have to be written at different levels of interpretation. Right now, I'm clipping things out of newspapers and mulling over the "moral issues of alcoholism," as they say on NPR, trying to come up with an arguable thesis.
No wonder I want to go follow the fox around the neighborhood.
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