Eleven Deer in Winter

As the dawn dawns, I take a photo of six deer grazing. They have on their heavy winter coats. The next time I look up from my writing desk, I note that the skies have lightened the clouds to steel blue grays, and the deer are gone.

Three hours later, as I scribble and type, I look out the window again and see a deer – two, three – crossing the field. Ahead of them, a bobcat trotting. Then I count four, five, six adult deer in a line, walking briskly. Seven, eight, nine deer driving the bobcat away. They stop at the bramble-covered stone wall watching the bobcat’s retreat. Nine of them in a line, a buffer for two fawns.

Snow in the forecast. As they return to browsing the field, I hope they will be safe and protected, healthy and strong, happy and free.