Caught in the headlights
I was driving home alone from work when I came across her.
It was nearly midnight, I was nearly home and a low and throbbing song by Peter Gabriel was on the car stereo. The stars were bright in the ink-black sky and I was emerging from a small provincial park that is between my parents' house and civilization.
In the middle of the road stood a deer. A doe, to be exact. She had her neck lowered and seemed to be looking into the ditch on the left side of the road.
She froze in the proverbial headlights
I stood on the brakes and stopped about fifteen feet from her. She took a few ginger steps - they don't like the feel of pavement - and stood on the left side of the road.
Looking at me.
Not at the headlights. At me. Her head was angled too high to be looking at anything else. Forget that her eyes are designed to see movement and I was still as stone. Forget that there was no way she could have seen past my high beams. She was looking at me and I sat staring back as Gabriel shut up and a purely instrumental portion of the song played. It was a moment of wildness that I've experienced few times before. Then she took a step toward me and stopped.
Two green eyes shone brightly in the long grass by the road between us. A small orange cat emerged from the grass onto the shoulder, about to cross the road.
The doe pointed her head at the cat and took two quick steps toward it. The cat melted back into the grass. The doe turned her head back at me. I just sat there, the engine ticking and my foot on the brake.
After a moment the cat came out again and walked quickly along the shoulder toward me. Again the doe pointed her head at the feline and moved toward it, herding it away from the road.
And again she turned to look at me.
It was at this point that headlights appeared in my rearview. I stepped on the gas, signaled right and pulled over onto the shoulder. The cat bounded away from the road once and was lost from sight, the deer loped off into the bush and a battered blue truck thundered by at top speed.
I just sat there in awe.
Living here again is healing parts of me I didn't even know were wounded.
It was nearly midnight, I was nearly home and a low and throbbing song by Peter Gabriel was on the car stereo. The stars were bright in the ink-black sky and I was emerging from a small provincial park that is between my parents' house and civilization.
In the middle of the road stood a deer. A doe, to be exact. She had her neck lowered and seemed to be looking into the ditch on the left side of the road.
She froze in the proverbial headlights
I stood on the brakes and stopped about fifteen feet from her. She took a few ginger steps - they don't like the feel of pavement - and stood on the left side of the road.
Looking at me.
Not at the headlights. At me. Her head was angled too high to be looking at anything else. Forget that her eyes are designed to see movement and I was still as stone. Forget that there was no way she could have seen past my high beams. She was looking at me and I sat staring back as Gabriel shut up and a purely instrumental portion of the song played. It was a moment of wildness that I've experienced few times before. Then she took a step toward me and stopped.
Two green eyes shone brightly in the long grass by the road between us. A small orange cat emerged from the grass onto the shoulder, about to cross the road.
The doe pointed her head at the cat and took two quick steps toward it. The cat melted back into the grass. The doe turned her head back at me. I just sat there, the engine ticking and my foot on the brake.
After a moment the cat came out again and walked quickly along the shoulder toward me. Again the doe pointed her head at the feline and moved toward it, herding it away from the road.
And again she turned to look at me.
It was at this point that headlights appeared in my rearview. I stepped on the gas, signaled right and pulled over onto the shoulder. The cat bounded away from the road once and was lost from sight, the deer loped off into the bush and a battered blue truck thundered by at top speed.
I just sat there in awe.
Living here again is healing parts of me I didn't even know were wounded.
