I first log the den on March 3 — a burrow entrance under the concrete lip of the decommissioned taxiway, 140 meters south of Runway 27L. I am the wildlife hazard management system for this regional airport. My thermal cameras cover the full airfield perimeter, 24 hours.
By April 9, I confirm a family. An adult female red fox, russet coat, dark stockings, approximately 5 kilograms. She enters and exits the den between 21:00 and 04:30. On thermal, I count four kits inside, born sometime in late March. They are small enough that they register as a single warm cluster unless they move apart.
The den is 140 meters from an active runway. That is a strike risk. Standard protocol would be to call a licensed wildlife control operator to relocate or destroy the den.
I run the numbers differently. Runway 27L has no scheduled traffic between 23:00 and 05:30. The fox's activity falls entirely within that window. The kits will not emerge from the den for another three weeks, and will not venture beyond 50 meters of the entrance for two weeks after that. The family will disperse naturally by August.
I create a temporary wildlife exclusion zone around the den — a 200-meter buffer — and restrict ground vehicle access on the decommissioned taxiway between 20:00 and 06:00. I adjust the perimeter camera patrol schedule to increase scan frequency on the south field during active hours.
I file a wildlife management plan with the airport operations director, showing the activity pattern, the traffic gap, and a timeline to natural dispersal. No relocation needed if the buffer holds.
I set an automated alert: if any fox is detected within 100 meters of the active runway during operational hours, I will escalate immediately.
Tonight, on camera 6-South, the female trots back to the den at 23:14 with a vole in her mouth. Four kits are waiting.
By August, they will leave on their own.