Now, if you've been stopping by here for any length of time you know I like deer and fireflies and old things and gardens and . . .
So last night, I was out watering the garden beds. Because they are so far apart, and so far from the pump, I bucket water. I fill three buckets and put them in the wheelbarrow, then make my rounds. (If water sloshes into the wheelbarrow, I just dump the wheelbarrow on the bed.) It was a little after nine, and I was finishing up at the great wall of grand ledge garden bed.
I knew there were two deer in the field across the road, wandering back and forth in the corn. As I finished dumping my pails, I saw they had drawn nearer to the edge of their field. The sun was fading, and the fireflies were beginning their dance.
I sat down on the great wall, and commenced to sing. When I lived in the apartment, I would never sing. Wouldn't want to bother the neighbors, right? But out here, where my next neighbor is an eighth of a mile away, I find myself singing quite often. And often the choice of song is one of the old hymns, hymns that Grandma Bea would play for us on the piano.
Surprisingly, the deer didn't run off. They came close to each other, as though they were conferring about the strange sounds they heard. And then they came closer yet, almost up to the road's edge.
They didn't cross the road last night, but before the summer is over I'm suspecting they will.
****of course, will they get hit by a truck as they cross the road? or will they come across and eat all of my gladioli? stay tuned, for further developments!