A morning's magic moments

Most days early morning dog walks come closer to being a daily chore than a climb through a wardrobe door to Narnia. This morning wasn't one of those walks. The air was humid and the fields were cloaked in mist. Something had walked along the road and left an intriguing trail that SiSi was determined to follow. The sky was magically clear and highlighted with a few puffy clouds, a half moon and a morning star. As we approached the entrance to our fields, I noticed some movement in the neighbor's fields across the road and several hundred yards South of us. One whitetail doe stepped out of the mist to the edge of the road, noticed the dog and I walking slowly in her direction, raised her flag and scampered across the road and into the pine plantation on the West side of the road.

magical morning mist

Photo by J. Harrington

Hanging back, where the mist was denser, were three other whitetails. A second deer walked out of the fog, stopped on the road, and stared at the dog and I. The dog was patiently attending to what we had walked to take care of and I was standing stock still with my hands in my jacket pockets. In effect, the dog and I had become statues. After watching us for a few moments, the second deer startled across the road, Whatever we were, she wanted no part of us.

While the third deer decided to quickly follow the second across the road and into the pines, the fourth was slowly, very slowly, approaching the dog and I, still trying to decide what we were and if we were a threat. She would take a step or two, stop, stare, snort or stamp a hoof, and watch for a moment, then repeat the procedure. Within a brief time, she had come about halfway toward us from where she had started. The dog and I were still being still. Suddenly, the doe looked off to her right, our left. I glanced toward where she had looked to see a  flock of Canada geese, 7 or 8 of them flying in a checkmark (✔) at about treetop height toward the West, over the fields headed for the waters in the Carlos Avery pools. When we looked back, the fourth deer had disappeared, as if by magic.

the magic of new life

Photo by J. Harrington

If every morning were as full of magic as today, would we then come to take magic for granted? Being human, we fear the answer is "quite possibly." If magical moments happened more often, but not necessarily all the time, would we be happier? Definitely. In fact, we've reached a point where we've come to believe that sunny days, as few and far between as they've been this Spring (and last Winter) contain magic in and of themselves. May we all find more magic in our lives. In fact, with just a little luck, we hope to see the magic of whitetail fawns appearing in our fields sometime soon. This is about the time of year when does drop (give birth to) their fawns. Late next month to mid-July is when they may start to appear.

The Place I Want to Get Back To

The place I want to get back to
is where
in the pinewoods
in the moments between
the darkness
and first light
two deer
came walking down the hill
and when they saw me
they said to each other, okay,
this one is okay,
let’s see who she is
and why she is sitting
on the ground like that,
so quiet, as if
asleep, or in a dream,
but, anyway, harmless;
and so they came
on their slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way
I go out to the dunes and look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers;
and then one of them leaned forward
and nuzzled my hand, and what can my life
bring to me that could exceed
that brief moment?
For twenty years
I have gone every day to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can’t be repeated.
If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named
Gratitude.

Mary Oliver

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