The deer have been here all day. It’s still a shock to my system to look out the window as I wash the dishes or walk by the patio door and see them there. The woods behind our house and empty field are the perfect home. Today there were three that lay all afternoon in the chilly sun.
But tonight, they came a little closer. I glanced outside during bath time and there were four deer munching in my garden. I know there will come a time when this will aggravate me, that deer are eating my carefully tended plants, but tonight this is amazing. The kids rush to the window and Seany is squealing so loudly that the deer glance up at us. My sweet daughter’s eyes are as wide as the field behind our house and we all spend a good five minutes with the beauty of nature.
My friend doesn’t understand my infatuation. He says deer are just the suburb’s version of pigeons, but I wildly disagree. And it is not just because I am sometimes convinced that the spirit of my father looks out through those still brown eyes in deer. There is just something about deer that quiets me, makes me reach to my inner calm, and makes me appreciate nature.
The spirits come to me in the early morning too. Yesterday was a dark and windy morning and I was running down the street. The spring warm had come for a brief moment and I was enjoying my morning run. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the first statuesque beauty. There were five altogether and I held my breath as they ran across the street in front of me, so graceful and smooth. I was certainly jealous of their abilities, but laughing to myself as well.
No pigeons to me. I will always be amazed. My breath will always catch, and I will always appreciate the quiet intensity of these beautiful creatures.
