Reflections on the Third Week of Spring – Finding Spring
White Tail Doe
Daffodil buds await a warm, sunny day to burst into bloom, but I’m not as patient. Daylight lengthening and the bird chorus intensifying couldn’t be the only harbingers. This week, I took on a mission from the calendar to find spring. Thursday evening brought some success.
Gazing
at the azalea-pink stripe created
by the sun
setting behind
the woods, I rinsed a
cast iron skillet at the
kitchen sink and splashed water onto
the bib of my apron. Sheesh.
I shut off the water and grabbed a towel from
the refrigerator handle. Turning my back to the sink, I mopped my
soggy front,
dried the pan, and glanced
through the sliding glass doors. Four white tail deer grazed in the south
garden.
Oooh.
Could I get a photo to show Spence when he returned from Cleveland?
Placing
the towel and pan on the table, I tiptoed to the bedroom and grabbed
my camera. I attached the zoom lens and tested the focus by aiming
through the window. The shutter release clicked ready, and the
largest doe jerked her head toward the bedroom.
Holding
the camera away from my damp apron, I backed out of the room and
tiptoed down the hall to the great room. Four feet from the sliding
glass door, I took aim again.
The
three does munched, but the yearling stared directly at me.
I
pressed the shutter release. Click.
The
yearling raised its front leg as if to march, but stood as still as
the angel statue in the north garden. It stared.
The
does stepped and munched.
Through
the glass, I clicked ten
photos. Would they be distorted? I slid the door for a clearer shot.
All
three does swiveled their heads toward the deck and glared. The
yearling pranced to the woods. Two does followed it, but the largest
doe stared right at my face and camera lens.
Click.
Click.
She
ran around the PVC pipes supporting chicken wire that protected last year’s cabbages then
dashed into the woods.
Were
the wild deer getting accustomed to people like their suburbanite
cousins?
Not
with all the hunters last fall.
But
staring at me rather than fleeing?
She
had fresh greens. Much better than winter
bark.
Fresh
indeed. The morning’s dusting of snow had melted keeping the new
growth crisp in chilly, moist soil.
Sitting
in my Adirondack chair, I transferred the photos to my laptop. A
misty coating dimmed the photos I’d taken through the glass. The
others, through the open doorway, looked sharp. I cropped, tweaked
contrast, and adjusted eye color.
Before
I could email the photos to Spence, he stepped through the front
door.
I
turned the computer screen toward him. “Look who came to visit
while you were gone.”
He
squinted. “Deer. Huh. Were they eating my garden or weeds?”
They
hadn’t been near the strawberry bed. “Is
anything growing in your garden?”
“Not
yet.”
“Then
they ate weeds.”
The
doe
was a kindred spirit―finding
spring no matter who watched her search. And
we weren’t the only
creatures hustling after spring.
The
next morning, Spence had a story. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa
with our cat George curled
on his chest when―
Bang!
“I
opened my eyes,” Spence said, “and saw a bat bounce off the window.”
He’d
caught my full attention. “The porch window by the wood stove?”
Spence
nodded.
“What
time?”
“The
middle of the night. It was dark. I didn’t look at the clock.”
“What
did the bat do?”
“It
darted
around a
porch light.” He zig-zagged
his hand back and forth. “Bats don’t fly straight.”
“A
bat out of hibernation and catching bugs!”
“Yep.”
Spence cocked his head and grinned. “Bugs came to the porch
lights.”
Bugs,
bats, deer, the calendar, and
I proclaim
it’s spring.
If
only we could cue the sun to
warm the air, melt the snow that keeps falling, and make
daffodils burst into their
golden bloom.
White Tail Yearling |
Hang in there, spring will come! :))
ReplyDeleteHanging in!
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