Saw a fox on the lawn early yesterday morning. She stalked one of the pigeons, then proceeded to devour her kill, finally making off as the grey light became brighter. Foxes are messy killers, but I was glad to see that she actually ate what she had killed (I admit to having little sympathy for the pigeon which had devoured our sugar peas and much else in the garden). Living where we do, one cannot become sentimental about nature, but I must confess it was a strange start to the day. “Murder in the Monastery” sounds like the title of a bad crime novel, doesn’t it?