Sunday

This morning as the skies lightened to reveal a grey and overcast day, I saw shadows creeping along the ridge through the glen.

Five deer moved softly and swiftly through the opening, leaving the darkness of the pines for the hardwoods on the other side.

I stood savoring my cup of piping hot tea, watching the animals glide along without a glance toward the house.

Darkness was all around, for I had left the lights off so I could see outside.

It was too dim for photos, so I listened to the silence of the house, sounds undiminished by traffic or human voices. The sound of a dwelling in the forest, where only the sighs of the breeze dashing along the vinyl siding can be heard.

Deer are curious creatures, and one stopped to investigate something I could not see. It lingered to eat, and I imagined it felt safe and secure in the open. I have never given the deer reason to fear me, and so they don't.

The doe moved onward and I cast my eyes toward heaven. Another day. I could see streaks of blue cutting through the clouds, a hope that maybe the clouds would lift and brightness would return.