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White foxes assemble in the snow under a bare hackberry tree, each carrying a small flame at its muzzle, under a black sky flecked with stars. Folklore held that the foxes of Oji met here every New Year's Eve to dress for their visit to the shrine, and farmers read the number of lights as a forecast for the harvest. Hiroshige paints it as quiet, not spooky, which somehow makes it worse.