Descriptive Writing: A Day in a Desert

The fennec fox crouched low on the ground, crawling slowly towards the fowl at the waterhole. Its sand-coloured fur made it nearly invisible against the dry dunes that stretched out like an endless sandy ocean around it. The big-eared canine’s paws sank into the ground as he shifted his weight, preparing for the pounce. The sun baked down on him, making his tongue roll out of his mouth, and move up and down in perfect rhythm with his breathing. The long red streaks on his back were his war paint. His black nose and tail tip, however, were his greatest enemies, as they often gave him away when hunting.

Today was no different. The guinea fowl noticed the movement in the grass and flew up with startled cries. The fox jumped and made a last dash for its prey, but then stood still, its fur glimmering and reflecting the rays of the bright afternoon sun. Then he turned around and jogged down the slope, looking for a meal. He stopped when he saw a rabbit, but it was too far away, and would have noticed him before he could reach it. Two miles later, though, there was a neat opportunity for food. A ground squirrel, its fur a mix of gray and brown and its thick tail hiding the fox from its sharp eyes, was sitting under a few cacti to avoid being spotted by a falcon.

But for the fennec fox, now that was a different story. In a flash he scurried between the thorny green stems, catching the squirrel’s neck in his jaws, his sharp little teeth snapping shut before his prey could get out as much as a squeak. The relieved fox walked back to his hole under the dunes, his food in his mouth and his tail swishing proudly behind him.