I was going to do a long, opinionated post about something no-one cares about (even me, really), when I got watching a family of foxes on the lawn of the garden belonging to one of the adjoining blocks of flats, which I overlook.
There’s a mother (I think) and five cubs. Although they actually live in the hedge and scrub of the very overgrown garden next over from that one, they basically have the run of the lawn at dawn and dusk, because no-one other than whoever mows the lawn ever seems to use the garden (not many people who live in flats ever seem to actually use their communal gardens). The cubs shoot around the grass play fighting like furry whirlwinds, the mother breaks it up when they go too far and I assume they all head off to raid dustbins for scraps when they reckon the humans have gone to bed and the coast is clear.
There’s no point to this post, no moral, any more than there’s a point to the foxes. But it’s still a lot better than anything I was going to do originally.