Front Porch - Sunday Morning Oct 13

It is unusually quiet on my front porch this morning. The sky is overcast and there is a damp chill in the air. Every so often I hear the purposeful squawk or tweet of a bird. There are no pleasant songs or complicated whistles. The sounds I hear are all very business-like this morning. The cooler weather seems to have brought a serious focus to nature as the preparations for the coming of winter go into full swing.

Over the past couple of weeks, my favorite red maple tree across the way has lost its grand shape and color. It looks thin, tattered and tired, like an old, thin workman in worn out clothes, ripped and threadbare. The deep rust color of the remaining leaves is hardly discernible from the brown leaves scattered around its base.

As I sit here taking in the morning scene, a young deer appears from the corner of the house and saunters into a small hutch of bushes in the middle of the yard. She is nearly hidden among the muted color of the remaining leaves and brown branches of the bush.  Though she is almost invisible to me, I notice that she is still under the watchful eye of her mother who stands nearby, sensing the air and scanning the yard for danger. What wonderfully graceful creatures the deer are and the scene makes me happy. Another sibling appears from around the corner of the house and the three begin carelessly nibbling at the remaining leaves on bushes. I'm conflicted whether to chase them away to protect the bush or continue to observe, unnoticed, unheeded. They are so close I could almost reach out and touch the smallest one. The feeling is both exciting and a little frightening. I don’t think I have ever been this close to a wild deer before.  I decide to watch and enjoy.

The sleek animals all have smooth light brown coats but I can see how they differ ever so slightly in shade and texture. Their ears are outlined in black and stand up like radar dishes swiveling to and fro in random patterns even as their attention moves from the nibbling the bush to grazing through the grass. The mother doe has an itch and by lowering her neck in what seems to be an impossible curve and raising her hind leg, she gets her hoof to just the right spot behind her ear.  The whole maneuver is accomplished while keeping her eyes forward and maintaining a vigilant watch over her children.

 The innocence of the young deer is remarkable. I sit quietly as one of the fawns moves toward me, lazily nosing around in the grass. She has big round brown eyes which occasionally glance up at me but pay no heed. Her eyes speak of happiness, curiosity, and contentment at the same time. I notice a slightly darken line of color along the spine of her back, almost like a subtle racing stripe that would camouflage her as a branch if she was hiding in the woods. She has found something interesting in the grass and has turned her complete attention to it. Her ears are laid back and head is down. Good thing mom is nearby.

I hear a snort from the mother doe. I think she might be chastising this little fawn for her lack of attention. Or maybe it was a reminder that the morning is getting on and safer pastures are in the woods. Mom and sister begin to wonder toward the wood but this fawn refuses to be rushed.  After another moment of grazing, she stands up tall and listens. I hear nothing but I can see that her senses are now on high alert. She lowers her head for a couple more nibbles at the grass but her ears are at attention.  Her head snaps back upright now.  She is listening intensely, and scanning the yard and road. I can just now make out the sound of a car coming down the hill. I get nervous for the fawn. Will she get spooked and bolt into the road and perhaps to her doom? I can hear the car clearly now and it is the focus of the fawn’s attention as well. Traveling much too fast down the hill, as is often the case, a potential disaster awaits the car, driver and fawn if she breaks for the road rather than woods.

 I notice that I am holding my breath with expectation. It is like watching a full-count pitch; in a moment something is going to change. The fawn tenses. She is wound tight like a spring. I can see the muscles in her hind quarter tense and twitch with the adrenaline. She glances around deciding on the nearest path to safety. The car continues to approach fast. On this road, there are ditches on either side of the rode with no place to maneuver.

Then, in a split second, the fawn launches herself into motion, all legs, fur and speed, a blur to my eye. She's smart though. Maybe she could see her family or maybe she had been attentive to their direction, in any case her escape route is away from the the road and toward the woods behind the house. In the blink of an eye she is gone and the car speeds by my porch.  The driver, oblivious to the danger that has passed, is probably caught up in his own morning thoughts.

I let out a long sigh and settle back into my chair. The quiet of the morning has returned.  I feel the chill in the air more intensely now and am less comfortable. I hear my girls milling about in the house, giggles and laughter replacing the quiet on the porch. It is time for a cup of coffee, and to start my day in earnest.