Early Christmas Present

Early Christmas morning I saw a deer in the neighbor’s back yard. Quietly, seemingly comfortably, browsing under a spruce tree pruned just high enough to serve as an umbrella. The neighbor – away recovering from knee surgery – could not have left a better guest, or provided one with a more comfortable shelter. While the snow was still three or four feet deep in places, the wind had blown it away from the grass under the two, carefully pruned spruces. The yard is large enough for a bit of wandering and well enough fenced to keep out the neighborhood dogs – who were strangely silent about the deer. And there was the large, covered patio where the dear could rest between snacks and ruminate. (Puns intended.)

As long as we didn’t stare too long or make any really loud noises, the deer was content with having us for neighbors. And we were content to watch from the kitchen or bathroom window as our living Christmas card, peaceful and beautiful, enjoyed the day. At times, the deer seemed more at home in its surroundings than we did in ours – gazing around from its nest on the patio as we bumped and rushed to finish preparing our Christmas feast.

I keep saying “it” because it could have been a doe or a buck. Our ignorance of its gender didn’t stop me from calling her “she” nor my husband from calling him “he.”

Apart from gender bias, we didn’t really read anything into this Christmas vision. It was just a deer. With the blizzard nipping at her heels and ears, she had found this temporary housing. Just a lucky fluke that the neighbor was away – also safe, warm, and well fed, but away. Just chance that let an unexpected silence fall on the neighborhood which, the day before, had been the scene of our digging noisily out as we emerged from the storm-covered houses, manned our four-wheelers, and shoveled and cleared paths for our larger vehicles. We, on our street at the edge of town, were all too well tucked into our homes to bother scaring off a stray deer.

What could we have read into it? It was just a deer. The day after Christmas, it left as silently and peacefully as it had come. I miss her.