A pair of foxes is getting married.

It’s raining and sunny at the same time.

Someone once told me, I think it was Enid Blyton... Anyway, she told me that when the sun comes out during the rain a pair of foxes is getting married. This is one such beautiful day.

I will make a speech, if I may. I first met these two crazy kids driving home late one night from a movie. I was driving past the park where play equipment, which alternated from scalding hot in summer to chilly in winter, had long been replaced by safety conscious, deadly boring pieces of plastic. A movement, no, actually the sudden pause of movement caught my eye and I slowed nearly to a full stop. In the dark those two foxes looked grey, perhaps they were, with dark muzzles and ears and those weird cat eyes that terrifyingly reflect light that is not there.

Back to the big day. So the clouds go from dark to grey to purple to violet to white gold and then the horizon. They are fit to burst but it isn’t quite time. Evening is setting and the sun has yet to make an appearance. It will though. It must. The beautiful bride crosses her fingers.

Finally the sun throws a few solid rays over the field and through the spindly branches of the thicket. 

The golden rusty groom grins his canine smile, baring his nasty, needle-sharp teeth.  The blushing bride trots sweetly down the aisle.

The sun shines and a light sprinkle of rain patters down. It is time. The celebrant, who is a possum, clears his throat.

Through the sun and the rain the lovers prepared to embark upon a new life.

Best wishes to the happy couple.

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