“Not all who wander are lost.” – J.R.R Tolkien

Some souls are born to roam. They are drawn not to the comfort of a den, but to the untamed ribbon of paths that stretch ever onward. Wanderer captures such a spirit in the amber eyes of a red fox—keen, alert, and always searching.

The fox moves forward through a tangle of autumn grass, its coat catching the gold of the late-day sun. The warm tones of rust and ochre melt into the earth beneath its paws, while the crisp whites along its face and chest draw our gaze to that steady, knowing look. It’s the look of a creature who belongs entirely to the wild, yet is always curious about the edges of the unknown.

The background, softened into shapes of muted green and lavender, hints at distance—both literal and metaphorical. We do not know where the fox has come from, nor where it will go, only that it walks with purpose. Every step is deliberate, every movement a quiet mastery of survival.

Wanderer speaks to more than the fox’s journey; it speaks to our own. To the part of us that longs to step beyond the boundaries we know, to see what lies just out of sight. It reminds us that the path is not always straight, nor safe, but it is ours to walk.

In the fox’s unhurried advance, we find both mystery and resolve. a testament to the beauty of moving forward, even when the destination is unknown.