October 26, 2016 - Deer sightings in Three Acts. 

Act One:

          It simply is not the least bit unusual seeing deer when you live in the country.  But, they have suddenly returned to our property after an extended absence.  We used to see them daily, then weekly and then slowly fewer sightings and now a long spell with few sightings.

          When the house was built, we had a clear view of the hillside in front of the Cornerstone Baptist Church.  Often, in the afternoons we would see herds of deer come out of the forest and graze on the terraced hillside.  Then more houses were built in the neighborhood and the church started to mow that terraced property and the deer moved elsewhere.

          Many mornings in our first 10 years we would be walking the dog along the back property line and suddenly we would be aware of deer on the steep downward slope of kudzu covered property bordering our property to the west.  There was a trickle of a branch at the base of that slope and often numerous deer heads would rise in unison above the camouflage of the shoulder high green kudzu and stare intently at my dog and me.  The dog didn’t happen to be looking, but I lingered and stared back.  Those big eyes, dark noses and those huge ears tuned in to my every movement.

           It never ceases to give me a thrill to see deer as they are such beautiful creatures.  After a few moments something would startle them and they’d disappear with a bound or two into the kudzu their white tails flashing as they retreated to safety.  Even that was exciting, however disappointing as they were gone out of view.

          The other morning my husband went out the door in the early a.m. for his “health walk” and came back almost instantly.

           “Two deer,” he called from the door.

          “Where,” I asked getting up from the couch, my coffee, and the newspaper.

          “Up on the hill near the willows . . .” he said as he came into the living from.

          He continued, “You can probably see them from the kitchen,” as he walked into the kitchen falling in behind me as I moved to the kitchen sink window to catch a glimpse.

          I spotted them easily just over the crest of the hill.

          “Aren’t they lovely,”  I gushed.

          I could see the shoulders of the large female deer to the right with that alert stance staring with ears out to the side cupped forward looking at the kitchen window.  The smaller one, a yearling, I could see only its head that looked up nonchalantly, looking around, and seemingly not concerned dropped its head out of view to continue to graze.

          As usual, I was mesmerized.  My heart sang with delight.  Oh, deer, they are back!  We watched together for a few moments and then my husband left my side and went quietly out the front door to continue his walk.  The alert female deer flipped one ear listening intently as he went up the road, gave him a quick glance, basically ignored him, and turned back to gaze at me in the window.

          It is nice they are back even if they do like to eat some of my finer shrubs and hostas to the ground.

Act Two:

          At the end of the day of my Daddy’s funeral, my Mom asked that I take her back to the grave to check that it was done correctly.  I had already planned on doing so when I took back the folding chairs we had borrowed from our church for the overload crowd of friends and relatives.

          The friends and relatives lingered way into the evening and it was just about dusk when Mom and I finally got a chance to make our pilgrimage to the cemetery.  I helped Mom into Dad’s car and traveled up Randall Road to Highland Street and took the left to the Cemetery.  The Cemetery is the newer one, Dad and Mom’s headstone is in the first section on the right and is enclosed on two sides by tall pines.

          We got out silently to the soft whoosh of the winds in the pines as they rustle their needles.  All was as it should be; the grass clumps had been replaced and tamped down and the earlier-in-the-week quick pruning of the boxwoods flanking the Sacred Heart adorned headstone looked fine in the peaceful fading light of the evening.  We silently returned to the car and drove down Highland Street into the center of town.

          Just as we were getting into town, where the old railroad tracks used to be near Carter Street, we saw a trio of small deer.  They were sauntering, yes, sauntering in the middle of the road as if out for a stroll on a soft summer’s evening.

          I slowed down to stop and we admired them in the headlights.

          “Daddy sent them . . .” my Mom said brightly.

          I thought, ‘Dad does fast work up there [meaning Heaven].  He already knows what department to go to send a sign of affection to his Babs.’

          We delivered the chairs back to the church.  I carried them down to the cellar where they belonged and we went home.  Al, my oldest brother and his wife, Carol, were staying with us during the days of the funeral. We told them about the deer.

          The next morning I was up making coffee early and Mom, my brother and his wife were in the living room. Suddenly we noticed a large deer coming from the pasture side of the house to the front lawn in full view of the living room bay window.

          “Look, Deer!” said my Mom excited.  All of us jumped up and gazed out the bay window.  Not just one deer, but a whole herd of them. They circled the yard in a leisurely manner, then one jumped the stone wall and bound across the road into the neighbor’s woods and the rest followed suit, white flag tails flashing.  What a sight.

          “Dad sent them, didn’t want you and Carol to be left out,”  Mom said with a comforting soft smile.

          Now you can understand why I can’t help to be moved almost to tears when I see a deer.

          A few years later I attended the funeral of a good friend and the reading for the Mass was based on the following scripture:

As the deer longs for streams of water,

so my soul longs for you, O God. – Psalms 42.2

Act Three:

My good friend’s mother died.  I sat with my friend and as her mother lay dying in the hospital and then later at Hospice.  The day of her mother’s funeral as I was getting dressed to go to the church, my husband calls from the kitchen,

“Hey, a deer is almost on our patio . . .”

Half-dressed I rush out and there was a young deer, a yearling.  It was no more than 10 feet from our patio.  The closest I had ever seen a deer to our house.  The deer pawed the ground as if asking for attention, then rose up on her hind legs and pawed the ground again asking for more attention as if to say, “Listen to me!”  She stepped a few more steps closer and she definitely had my complete attention.  I had never seen hove pouncing before.

I surmised it was a message from Mrs. Lane.  I whispered to the deer,

“Yes, I’ll let your daughter know you arrived safely in heaven.”

I started to cry thinking, ‘I hope I can tell Judy without crying that her Mom, like my Dad, had quickly found the message department.