At home by the ninth green. (Photo by Mark Libbon)

It’s too easy to take notice when Mother Nature gives us one of those harsh reminders who’s boss down here on planet Earth.

So we collectively stare and share after hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, destruction.

Sometimes, though, she allows us a precious moment to breathe deeply and appreciate the second part of that often-used expression shock-and-awe.

Yesterday, Kingpin and I hit our approach shots up near the ninth green at Radisson Greens. Not on the velvety putting surface. Short. He was left, I was right. We both looked toward the green, momentarily unaware of how fortunate we were about to become.

Kingpin saw the beautiful creature first. “See the fox?” he asked. And I did, the pretty red lady dancing around in the sand trap on the left side of the green first put there in the mind of legendary golf course architect Robert Trent Jones Sr.

My longtime golfing partner got to the iPhone in his golf bag first. I moved slowly and cautiously toward the bunker, wanting to see more but not wanting to spook the gorgeous animal.

The fox ducked away.

“Where is it?” Kingpin wondered, still pointing the camera feature.

In a hole in the sand, I saw with my own two eyes. “With a baby!” I exclaimed after inching even closer.

“Get back,” Kingpin advised.

We humans know of the protection principle.

But this mama was happy to lie in the bunker she had so appropriately burrowed into Trent Jones’ trap in Baldwinsville, N.Y.

We had discovered first-hand why they call those things foxholes.

Mark Twain famously labeled golf as a good walk spoiled.

Sure, too many swings from too many tight places can make that seem true enough.

Keep your eyes open as you share the green space, though, and it can suddenly become a great and wonderful walk, indeed.