Kitsune Mura and the Very Persistent Fantasy

Somewhere in Miyagi Prefecture, up a mountain road that feels like it shouldn’t lead anywhere interesting, there is a place called Kitsune Mura—fox village—where roughly a hundred foxes live in varying degrees of domesticity and will, if they’re in the mood, walk directly up to you and assess your shoes. Six breeds wander the grounds freely. Most of them are asleep on logs or stationed in patches of sun with the specific expression of creatures who have decided you’re probably not worth the effort.

In Japanese folklore, kitsune are shapeshifters—tricksters, messengers for the god Inari, capable of taking human form and causing the kind of trouble that makes good stories. The animals at Kitsune Mura are none of these things. They’re just foxes: alert, a little standoffish, occasionally bold enough to steal your bag if you look away for a second. Which somehow makes the place more interesting, not less. You drove up a mountain to sit with a hundred animals who regard you as scenery. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon.

I keep thinking about selling everything, buying a fox costume, and disappearing into Miyagi. This is not a serious plan. It is, however, an extremely persistent fantasy, and everyone who has seen the footage will understand exactly why.