I sit on the porch of our little cabin in the country watching the deer gather around a pile of corn kernels. Yes, we feed the deer and I won’t listen to any well-meaning messages about the harms of feeding wild animals. The deer were part of this place before we came along and hopefully will be for a long time to come. We feed them; we are simply another resource for their nourishment.
Still, should we be late in spreading out the kernels, they come and stand, waiting patiently for us to make the journey to the shed to scoop up another pail. And we do.
In our place with no TV or internet, their daily visits have become our entertainment. Seeing them grow and mature, the females becoming swollen with pregnancy, the males sporting the beginnings of massive horns has been a welcome break in the weeks of quarantine and isolation.
Recently, the mamas brought their fawns to the feeding place, as if introducing them. One had her baby in the little plot of trees just within sight, we watch the little one attempt to stand and collapse. Another had twins. They parade and scamper and leap and wobble, all so precious to watch.
They remind us that in the midst of so much uncertainty, nature has her own timing and life continues.
We will continue to feed them, to watch them grow. Still, I know that by fall, the bucks will be in the sights of a gun. I know those who kill them will be rewarded with food, hopefully, that’s all.
Today we keep them safe from tomorrow. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
Safe from tomorrow. How much of our world is safe from tomorrow?
In the shadow of COVID-19, walks an equally lethal and insidious monster. How many people will have to die because of the color of their skin, or a lifetime of poverty or the inadequacies of our health and social support systems, or the ultimate murderer- the mindless arrogance of leaders bent on proving their omnipotence?
It’s easy to voice opinions and outrage at the injustices. Easier to wallow in shame at the collective ignorance and defend our innocence. Self-righteousness, the companion that fuels anger; complacency, a servant to maintain the status quo, continue to collide.
We claim to have open minds yet struggle to open our hearts. I yearn to find that place between.
The deer we feed will never have a name.
The ones who die do.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field.
I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.”
Rumi
