“Molly, the deer are here!”
“Really?” I turned from my computer.
“There are at least three of them,” Kurt said, peering out the window.
“Oh!” I pushed back my chair and rushed over to look. It’s not unusual for deer to visit us, but they don’t often come in full daylight, and regardless of when they come, we’re always delighted to see them.
“They’re over there–in the clearing to the woods,” he said, pointing.
Peeking out, I scanned the side meadow and the edge of the woods. Where were they?
Finally, a flicker of movement, perhaps a flash of tail, drew my eye, and two deer materialized, as if by magic.
I watched, entranced, as they delicately picked their way through the brush and desiccated weeds. Stopping to graze, then moving on again.
“I’m going to sneak out and see if I can get a picture.”
Not stopping for a coat, I grabbed my camera and moved out to the mudroom. I eased open the door, wincing at its squeak, then pushing it gently shut behind me. I edged around the house, easing my feet down step by step, hoping I could move into position before the deer noticed me.
I looked down in dismay. My foot rested on the broken edge of a large piece of gritty, icy snow.
The deer froze, tilting their heads in my direction. They stared directly at me.
I stopped. Slowly lifted my camera. Clicked a photo. Held my breath.
Would they stay?
Would they go?
For long minutes, we stood together, still in the cold spring breeze.
Finally, they dropped their gazes and lowered their heads to graze again. I exhaled and settled in to watch them, every so often carefully raising my camera to take a few more pictures.
Eventually, the deer worked their way off into the trees, and I went back in doors to warm up.
It was a lovely visit.