There's Deer in Them There Woods

When we bought the house back in March, having never seen the place without a film of drizzle or torrential rain around it, the realtor regaled us with tales about the deer that live in the woods beyond. I remember doing my share of "oohing" and "wowing" and possible a few "no way?"'s, but having lived in suburbia for the past 12 years, it seemed a bit of a romantic selling spiel.

Well, I have had my cynisicm well and truly silenced. From the first sighting on moving day of the elegant creatures that make the woods behind the house their home, I became fascinated by the concept of living so close to nature. Daily, at twilight, big brown eyes peeped cautiously from the protection of the tall trees, then drawn by the desire to nibble the new shoots of the farmer's crops, they timidly step out of the gloom and into the open sunshine of the field.

Sometimes one or two, occasionally a whole family come to feast. Their coats shine glossy in the sun, the colour of golden syrup, and perky white tails twitch with exctement as they eat. Oblivious to the thrills they offer for the humans that stop cars on the road to watch them, binoculars and zoom lenses poised. They are indifferent. All they know is to fill their bellies and have some fun.

While gazing out the window this week, I was treated to a parade of these elegant animals as they ran the length of the woods, kicking, leaping, joyful, until they turned and darted back into the safety of the trees. And now, I get the thrill that everyone talked about back in March. Living alongside nature, brings about a certain joi de vivre. It makes me stop and think. When did I last kick up my heels just for the hell of it? How often did I gaze at the sky and invent shapes from the clouds? Well, the country has the ability to make us city folk look small. The sky is bigger, the sunrises and sunsets could make a person forget everything but how to drink in the beauty and natural splendour that costs nothing.

It's a humbling experience to have to relearn all that you thought you knew. As the crickets sing into the twilight and the light fades on my ability to type, I drain my wine and head inside. I know that tonight, as the garden becomes a lively moonscape of frogs, bats, and barnyard cats, I will sleep on oblivious, knowing that for all the challenges, I have finally come home.