No One Asked the Deer


Hibiscus blooming at LaMama's.

Campsis (trumpet vine) is blooming now along the roadsides. I have it here at the cabin, but it was all cut back with the driveway work that occurred in February. I have lots of small trumpet vine plants, but no blooms. Maybe later in the summer. I'll keep watching for it.

I heard a deer snort for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Since then I’ve heard it several more times. The first time I didn’t know what it was; the noise came from across the forest and my first thought was, “there’s a horse in these woods?” I watched quietly and motionless from the front porch, and soon I saw a deer running through the woods from the direction of the snort. Since then I have heard the same sound several times and have seen a deer in the vicinity each time. Wonder why they are doing it now, but I never heard it earlier in the spring? I did a google search and read a little about it. The consensus seems to be that they make this sound as a warning to other deer to stay away or to alert them to danger. Possibly. No one asked the deer.

I’m seeing a greater variety of birds at the feeders lately. I noticed a towhee this morning, and an unidentified bird the other day. I’ll keep watching for the new visitors as we move towards fall. But the usual cardinals, chickadees, titmouses, mourning doves, wrens, jays, woodpeckers, and nuthatches show up to greet me everyday, without fail, and I appreciate them so.

Today I’m sharing another poem from Mary Oliver called “Wild Geese.”

Wishing you well.
~Pat

Wild Geese 
from New and Selected Poems
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

       love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.



Here's a link to a video of Mary Oliver reading "Wild Geese" and two other selections: "Tom Dancer's Gift of a Whitebark Pinecone" and "Peonies." I really enjoyed hearing her read these. You might too.



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