Eyes to See With

I don't know about you, but when I stay home from work with a bad mirgraine--the kind that makes me nauseous and dizzy--go to bed, wake up feeling a bit better with the headache biding its time in the background, I go for a nice long bikeride with my camera. At least, if the weather is nice and I expect it might be my last chance for a while and I haven't been able to do so because of childcare responsibilities and weather, I do.

I put my camera in my backpack along with my journal and a pen and the iPod, and zip down beside the Don, drinking in the sight of summer-green leaves against a summer-blue sky and the gurgling of the river at my left, here narrow and brown, there wide and grey-white. I try not to, but as I ride I categorize what I'm seeing: goldenrod, tansies, snapdragons, orchids, violets, sunflowers (someone's birdseed distribution error, I imagine), deer,

Wait.

Deer?

I brake the bike hard, get my camera out of the bag, turn it on and double back on foot.

Yes, deer.

A doe and a fawn, staring at me. I stare back. "Hello," I say. They don't reply but they haven't run away yet. (click) "Aren't you lovely," I say. "Thank you for staying." (click)

A girl walking by stops to see what I am taking pictures of, and grins widely. Eventually the doe and fawn trot away, and I pack up my camera. The girl and I smile at each other, pleased to have shared some magic on an ordinary Thursday afternoon.

That bikeride was packed full of sightings. Monarchs posing patiently for me, dragonflies skimming the river and stopping to rest on a nearby leaf, bumblebees half the size of my thumb soaking pollen from tansies, something like a white grasshopper flaunting itself on a dark green leaf by a footpath in the woods. And--two more deer sightings. One of them another doe-and-fawn pair.

The doe and fawn were well-hidden the second time, I grant you; so I can understand not seeing them, and forgive the cyclists, joggers and walkers who went by staring at me curiously. (You might have to click on the picture for the full-size version to find them yourself.) What could she be taking pictures of? Who could she be talking to?

But the last deer was standing not a metre from the paved bikepath, calmly and loudly munching on leaves. I stopped and snapped away. "Look at you." (click) "Aren't you beautiful." (click) "Thank you for staying still and letting me take your picture." (click) "Can you believe that no one else can see you?" (click)

Other members of my species just went right on by, not sparing a glance for a the grown deer standing right in front of them, looking only at me with worried frown on their foreheads. But--look. There's a deer in this picture, isn't there?

Too busy on their way to the tennis courts, I guess; too caught up in whatever is going on in their heads, too worried, too distracted. But whatever the reason, it shocked me. Look!

Nature is right there. You just have to keep your eyes open. Squint, maybe. Pay attention.

Posted by Andrea at August 1, 2008 8:58 AM under The Green Family

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