August 2, 2012


I can't believe I haven't written about one of the quieter blessings of this property.  When we came for our final walk-through, our realtor told us there was a "sign" in the backyard that we were in the right place.  (He knew a little about the path that had brought us to New York and had worked tirelessly to find us a peaceful corner of the world.)  Under a shade tree not 20 yards from the house, a deer lay resting, heavy with pregnancy.  We shared our first spring with "Shalom", and got to watch her fawns, Dorcy and Daffodil, play all summer.  What a gift.

We have a few apple and pear trees on the property and the deer spend a lot of time underneath them.  Once we happened to be watching when an apple fell out of the tree onto one of the fawn's heads.  Did you know fawns can jump straight up like a cat?  Hysterical.

Slowly the fawns got bigger and their spots began to fade, but they were never far from their mother.

As Fall came, Shalom's fur got thicker and she fattened up for the winter.   Luckily, she was not afraid of my camera and gave me many chances for poses like this.   She is beautiful.
There was rarely a day we didn't see them, even through the winter.

Spring brought us a new mommy and summer brought us new fawns.  The cycle began all over again while we watched.

One of the best parts about sharing our life with these beautiful creatures is getting to see daddy in a new light.  My husband has a serious heart for animals and we get to watch him act on it daily as he waits for our family of deer and can sometimes even summon them from the forest with a click of his tongue.  Just this month he has reached a new level of trust with one of the fawns who now playfully darts around him, unafraid. I caught him out there with them once before dawn, in his suit and tie, in the rain.  This is a powerful lesson for my young boys about gentleness and respect.

It was a bold and scary move to choose land over a neighborhood when we have three social children who were pulled from suburbia, but I have to believe they are going to learn something here that only nature can teach. I hope they are learning that the quiet space between play and sound and work has the ability to soothe and replenish them.  I hope they are learning that the natural environment is as big a gift as technology. Maybe by being surrounded by such beauty they will hear God's voice a little louder, a little earlier, and a little more often.  I don't know.  But I do know it is doing all of those things for their mother.