The Fox at Dawn

A Book of Days

November 11, 2024. It’s been almost a week and I’m no closer to peace or resignation or commitment. I have the comfort of friends and colleagues who were also knocked out of their shoes by the election results. But we can only look sideways at what happened, daring only little glimpses. We can only talk a little of it before we stop and pull each other lovingly from the edge of where speculation leads. Time rolls on though- how will we navigate it? I write ‘we’ because I need a ‘we’ more than ever. Being a solitary was always challenging, but now it’s dangerous. How will I lovingly pull myself back from the edge?

I’m trying to formulate plans for surviving the next, what- two years? Four? The rest of my life? Writing helps. People reading it helps. Feeling that there is a heartbroken “we” out there, helps. I set myself the task of writing about living through and maybe even thriving in this era we are in. I’m grasping for anything that will stop my fall.

However roughly the day treats you, remember- You saw the fox at dawn.

– Loren Lee Crawford