I've mentioned a couple of times before the aspects of the rural that still survive near the publishing company office where I work, not far from the Schuylkill River. It's a cold Monday here outside Philadelphia, but with a sparkling clarity, and bright sun slanting through the trees. I looked up from the desk a few minutes ago and on the hillside not twenty yards away a golden fox was trotting by. An unexpected sight, a gracious gift, a great morning.