Part 2 - The quest for the Arctic Fox

ARTICLE #9 | MARCH 20 2025

The few dozen seconds I spent gazing into the eyes of the Arctic fox, my very first, were enough to reignite my motivation. At dawn, in fact well before, I'm already ready to brave the cold to set off in search of him. As he seems to have more nocturnal habits, I adopt the same behavior to maximize my chances of coming across him again. No luck that morning.

Normally, I'd take a break somewhere around 11 a.m. when the light is harsher and the animals less active. On an expedition in northern terrain, I simply don't stop. From morning to night, I invest all my time in searching for the slightest sign of presence. Over 80% of my time in the wild is spent scouting, if not more. The remaining 10%, more or less, is spent taking photos and balancing, pure contemplation.

The sun was approaching the horizon again when a truck stopped not far from where I was walking.

- “Hey, what are you looking for?

- Arctic foxes! The ones that are completely white. I spotted one last night, but never saw him again, unfortunately.

- Oh, yes ! We just saw one along the road, feeding on a little ptarmigan. It would have made for some pretty good photos with your camera! We tried to give him some sandwiches, but he was very shy. They're not like red ones, are they!

At this very moment, there are about twenty minutes left before the sun sets. I have two options. I stay put, hoping to see the same individual as yesterday, or I head for the one “ feeding on a chicken ” along the path. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I rush to the van, start the engine and take the direction indicated by my interlocutors. Driving faster isn't an option here, as the road is full of bumps which, despite my numerous trips, never cease to surprise me.

All that remains are a few white feathers, soon to be blown away by the wind. Arctic foxes travel great distances in search of food. If it was there thirty minutes ago, it could be several kilometers further into the forest by now. I decide to continue along the road, which will allow me to cover as much ground as possible before it gets dark. This turns out to be the right strategy. About 3 kilometers to the south, I spot my second Arctic fox in my life.

Just seeing him makes me so happy. I capture a few images when he stops to look at me. Then I let him go off into the night. Filled with excitement by this new encounter, I hardly close my eyes until the next morning.

The 2 days following that evening were absolutely magical. I was fortunate enough to come across this individual several times, in amazing conditions. My first challenge: to photograph this visitor from the north in his natural environment and not on the road. He seems to spend most of his time on the compact snow along the tarmac. It's quite normal when you think about it. It's much easier for him to get around, and there's an abundance of prey. I notice, however, that he seems to swerve towards the forest edge when a car passes him by. Lying down in the snow, wearing white garments, I take advantage of the brief moments during which he meanders through the spruce to take some photos. The snow is deep, but he seems to float effortlessly on the surface.

My second challenge was to try to anticipate his movements and stay one step ahead of him. The two men who informed me of this fox's presence in the area were right. He doesn't have the curiosity of his red cousins in the area, and I'm very glad of that. As I said in Part 1 of this story, I prefer to observe truly wild animals rather than those habituated to humans. However, I need to understand its trajectory and position myself accordingly. I repeat the same process several times to stay ahead of him and avoid any disturbance as much as possible. Everything works perfectly. I savor every moment with him, not knowing if this is my final encounter.

Around 9 a.m. on what turned out to be my last day there, a streak of sunlight illuminates the landscape frosted by the polar night. Just then, the fox comes trotting down the road. He spots me quickly, as usual. Instead of going around me, he stops in front of me in the most beautiful light I've seen since I got here. The warm colors on his coat contrast with the cold snow. He gazes deeply at me, giving me chills even looking through my camera. Then he gently closes his eyes for 2-3 seconds before continuing into the forest. For me, it looked like he was saying goodbye. I soak up all I can of this fleeting moment and thank him for trusting me the past few days.

Thanks for reading! For those who'd like images of these splendid Arctic foxes, the links are below. If you enjoy reading this, my book TAÏGA is still available (FRENCH ONLY).

COLLECTION ARCTIC FOX |

COLLECTION  NORTHERN LIGHTS |

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