It's been quiet most of the night, but I did get a visit from some deer. It was after the clouds had formed and obscured the moon, and had even settled to the ground, forming a thin fog that turned the distant trees to shadows. I heard the sound of small hooves clicking softly on the pavement as I stood on the porch. I kept to the darkest corner, and they approached. I heard the leaves being torn from the bushes as the deer browsed, and heard the damp mulch of decaying leaves under the wild plum give slightly under their weight, only a short distance away. Like the trees, the deer were only shadows, but I could make one out as it crossed the lawn. Several others were moving up both sides of the street. They moved gradually, stopping to browse on various plants or to listen for sounds beyond the range of my hearing. Perhaps they sniffed my scent on the air, but they did not start and run as they often do. All but invisible, they continued their progress beyond my house, and the other houses, until at last the soft clicking of their hooves died out. Then I went into the house, and saw that one of the cats had slipped behind the drapes to look out the window. I envied her the view she must have had through her cat eyes.
(sigh)
Date: 2004-01-12 10:30 am (UTC)When I was a child, my mother used to read a poem to me -- I can't remember it, but it involves a child and a deer: "I didn't move and I didn't speak, and the doe (?) came up and licked my cheek."
Re: (sigh)
Date: 2004-01-12 05:37 pm (UTC)I'm not familiar with that poem. While I enjoy having the deer visit, if one of them licked my cheek I'd probably freak out. We have mule deer around here, and they can get pretty big.