Just before Ralph and Pam arrived for dinner Friday these fawns and their mother were feeding at the edge of the slough in front of the cabin. Mom stayed in the brush but I was able to get some shots of mom.
Blogger is fighting me on spacing today, sorry.
Seeing deer also makes me think of Stafford's poetry, his poem Travelling Through The Dark is widely anthologized. But this poem by Mary Oliver is still a favorite.
"When for too long I don't go deep enough
into the woods to see them, they begin to
enter my dreams. Yes, there they are, in the
pinewoods of my inner life. I want to live a life
full of modesty and praise. Each hoof of each
animal makes the sign of a heart as it touches
then lifts away from the ground. Unless you
believe that heaven is very near, how will you
find it? Their eyes are pools in which one
would be content, on any summer afternoon,
to swim away through the door of the world.
Then, love and its blessing. Then: heaven."
The Faces of Deer
by Mary Oliver
(from) Deer Stolen by William Stafford
Deer have stood around our house
at night so still nobody knew,
and waited with ears baling air.
I hunt the still deer everywhere,
For what they heard and took away,
stepping through the chaparral,
was the sound of Then: now it's Now,
and those small deer far in the wild
Are whispers of our former life.
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