Three Deer

Two does and a yearling were grazing in the meadow this evening.  I haven't seen them much this past summer.  I've missed them, once the meadow was one of their regular grazing spots.  So common, seemingly, then suddenly one day gone. Just gone.  All sorts of possibilities, mostly grim, were put to rest this early fall evening as they grazed down the meadow then back up again.

Wonder, and I do.  Simple, common wonder of the deer:  the hooves, the golden coat, the enormous ears and liquid eye.  The ease with which they move into air never fails to startle me.

Bending over the grass the large body of the doe seemed an impossible mass for the slenderest of legs to hold.  But hold they do. Just when I'm thinking this is surely the most ethereal of creatures, she lifts her back leg and scratches her ear.

With so many creatures exiled into fairy tales or extinction I need the deer in the here and now.  I need to see her warm heavy body suddenly air-borne.  I need to see her shimmer in the last golden light of the day.  I need to see her mouth fill with grass or apple. I need to see mud on her hooves. This evening, better a deer than a unicorn.  Better a deer than a pegasus.

By the scratching of a flea she declines a place in the great pantheon of mythical beasts.  And I am glad.