It's Sunday again?

I don't understand. A day of rest and all that, sure, but here I am up and at 'em as they say. Or used to say. I put the blind up, and sure enough, fox tracks under the window. Again. I know, I've gone on and on about the fox before, but still to think it was under my window knee-deep in snow maybe as I was turning over or dreaming about some wild place by a lake, just me sitting there on a rock looking across the ice as if trying to focus on some point.