To see a deer in the wild, magical.
Through my mind run pictures,
unexpected moments, deer sightings, on a hike or a twilight drive.
Like the time walking in a thick, dark, moss covered woods.
Coming upon a family of deer laying under a circle of trees.
Appearing almost placed, picture perfect and
remaining so until we quietly passed.
We a guest in their home.
Amazed I was.
Or the time we took a moment of rest on a rock at the top
of a very large hill high above a wildflower meadow.
Hearing growing hoofbeats, rumbling from behind,
a young deer sprints by, running faster than I have ever seen,
his white tail a bobbing blur through lavender.
A picture I have kept in my head for over 30 years.
Countless memories of the majestic silhouettes,
in the clearings of the campground chosen for that weekend.
Countless memories of inquisitive looks from soft brown eyes,
twitching ears at the sound of my voice saying
'hi! how are you!'
Memories that stir happy moments, a bond between myself and nature.
As important to me as anything here in this world.
Now the City Deer.
A four corner busy intersection, two baby fawns feeding on tall grass,
no Mama in sight, middle of the day.
An 8 point buck, on a four lane highway, stopping traffic
under the scorching summer sun.
At the office, middle of an industrial park, lunchtime,
a lovely doe walks casually back to a small woods that has been spared,
allowed to remain untouched by human hand.
A tiny bit of God's world that is home to my new friend,
just outside the window.
From my heart pours a sadness,
new memories that will ache,
pictures that will run with tears
for the City Deer.
They are trapped here with me as God's world disappears.