It was sad, only because it will so soon be over. It was sweet, because a deer mysteriously became cordial, even almost affectionate. Well.. it probably did not become either of those things, but it seemed to.. it certainly seemed to.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/21202718@N00/12146374644/
We were going out the door, down the porch steps to gather something from the car. It was deep dusk, and the porch light was turned off. Suddenly my husband said, "Deer..right there.." I stopped and looked and was immediately quiet. Silent. In awe.The doe had paused just feet from where we stood, looking at us. That is, it looked at my husband, then turned a bit to look at me. And back and forth. No skittishness yet, just - a steady gazing. But there was always a readiness to run.
I suppose the entire episode lasted 10 to 15 minutes, and included several moments when the doe hesitantly approached us both, in turn. Me, in particular, it approached. At perhaps 2 feet away, I began backing up just because.. because I was uncertain and felt it would reach up to lick me at any moment and I was not certain I wanted it to. Germs, and all that.
So I backed up the steps to the porch, whereupon it slowly approached the porch. I feel the doe would have come up the steps and again, I wasn't sure I wanted it to. Too much closeness with wild things might not be just the right thing, you know (please do not fear it was attacking. It was different than that).
My husband quietly walked up the porch steps to stand beside me. The doe stood a couple of feet away, still gazing, and stayed on until we went into the house. A few minutes later, it had gone.
Just a few moments in time, but interesting! Intriguing. This thing was soft (apparently, at least; we didn't touch it of course - however, I think it would have let us), with soft brown eyes and very mobile ears. Perhaps it was because the light was low and she didn't know what, or who, we really were. Perhaps she had visited our yard before, remembered our dandelions, and felt safe there. Whatever. It was sad. It was sweet.
Why does the SconeLady feel it was sad? Because it was one of those poignant occasions so abundant in this sweet woodland town, and I must soon leave it. Yes, we will pack, organize, and pick up sticks for another locale in mere weeks.
My sweet woodland cabin will become someone else's home; someone else's wood stove; someone else's endless tree-filled property. Walking tours will look decidedly different, now, and that is why it feels sad.
But I must trust, as always. Every goodbye welcomes a new and unique 'hello' elsewhere, and this I know from long experience. I will keep you updated along the way, as you know I will. In the meantime, I think I will keep the porch light off and sit still in the deep dusk, my blue eyes open for those soft brown ones, watching for me.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
P.S. The SconeLady must be straightforward and say that this move will bring us near to children and darling grandchildren. Thus, it is not sad in that way. Not at all! We are blessed. And we will find our way back here to the loved ones we must leave behind. Promise! -Lord willing.
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/21202718@N00/12146374644/">outdoorPDK</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>
We're counting on that promise!
ReplyDelete