Early Morning Light
I walk through the woods listening to the joyful bird sounds, not thinking about anything really -just letting my thoughts wander to the sky. I come out of the forest into a large, grassy meadow and that's when I see it. The brown and white animal lying on its side in the grass. Slowly and quietly I tiptoe closer. I gasp. A brown deer with a stomach as white as a blanket of snow lies there heaving and snorting. It's not only the deer itself that is amazing, it is what I am witnessing. A clear bag of water is erupting from the doe's back end. The bag breaks, the deer gives one last push and a small. dark, wet, bloody sac slides out onto the soft green grass. The doe stands up, licking off her newborn fawn. I watch, mesmerized by the shock, joy, impossibieness and magnificence of it. The young fawn lets out a cry almost as small as a hummingbird's chirp and tries to stand up, but falls. It tries again. After many tries, the baby walks slowly and shakily toward its mother's back legs, searching for nourishment. Finally, it grabs a teat. The mother stands quitely and patiently nursing her young fawn.
The doe turns and catches my eye. She stares for a moment and then turns back to her baby and seems to whisper something. She lies down and goes into labor again. I see the second fawn emerging slowly in the soft, warm June sun. As the doe licks off her second fawn, the first fawn walks toward me, as if pulled by an imaginary force and stops just inches away from me. I tentatively stick out my hand. The young creature touches it with its velvety nose, then hops back to its mother.
Once everyone is strong, the doe swiftly turns and glides away followed by her babies. Both fawns look back at me, bow their heads, turn, and run after their mother.