A chance glance over the edge of the bridge as I was walking home yesterday turned up this urban Fox, running down hill towards the bridge. It stopped, turning to face backwards to watch the approaching train, but it wasn’t at all phased by the noisy engine bearing down it, waiting till the last minute to leap into the bushes at the side of the tracks. And, as soon as the last carriage had passed, it hopped back on to the tracks again to continue its journey. Sadly, it didn’t look in the best of health, its hindquarters seemingly affected by mange.