Sitting in the hammock tonight with Indigo I heard the whisper, “Go to the river.” Within minutes I was on my way. Some nights I find myself there unsure of how or why. Some days I go there to cry or to bask in gratitude, breathing along with the babbling water. Some days I just need to lay my eyes on the family that is a precious herd of deer. Either way, we always find one another. The mother doe knows me, we acknowledge each other and part ways. But her babies are always curious. From yearlings to fresh fawns, they take curious steps towards me until a falling walnut or screeching hawk startles them away; bounding like rambunctious puppies. It is here, in this small part of town behind a quiet school, that I find my heart. The land replicates that of where I played as a child, the deer watch me like those who did when I was small and my innocent mind was full of wonder, and the feathers follow me around as always. Giant walnut trees sway in the wind and the river birch drops it’s bark playfully at my feet. Tonight I found the ever elusive chicken of the woods mushroom. I checked for poison ivy before trekking into the woods but the shroom flesh was a day past due and housing some gnat’s. Another time, I sighed, I know where she grows now. My heart full, I followed triplet fawns into downtown where they can munch on fresh flowers. My bicycle made them nervous and they jumped all around as if they could escape space and time with their long slender legs. I can’t wait to meet them again when they grow velvet antlers or birth their own spotted babes. Down by the river, where the warblers sing. -JL
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