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The night air is rent by unearthly shrieks. Stammered yelps and horrid guttural whimpers cut through the silence. It sounds like witches are murdering some poor soul deep in a well at the end of my garden. The foxes are out in force tonight

.Unfortunately, the foxes that frequented the many out-of-the-way wildlife havens along the tracks could not read the danger signs and it was not uncommon to come across the remains of one picked clean beside the rails. At one time we had a good half dozen fox skulls around

for all to watch.Another time we learned that foxes liked to play with the drying weed left on the pond edges. Early one morning there were three or four young cubs out there frolicking with the stuff. Apart from snatching it from each other and playing

the increasing number of rats; that's four in a month now. I guess I'll just have to accept that we live in a city, so they'll be everywhere.Last week a fox was regularly walking through the garden between 6 and 6.30am. I used to wonder why I would see them