Today I Danced with a Deer

It was a buck specifically. 

I’m pretty sure he saw me first. It was as if he were waiting for me—standing silent and majestic about 75 feet in front of me on the path. He was at the convergence of three trails. When I glanced up and saw him, I immediately stopped. He was magnificent and strong. 

Our eyes met and he took two graceful leaps away from me and turned to face me again. His eyes were large and dark, and I could see the velvet on his newly forming antlers. There were two points on each side. 

Perhaps he was waiting for my graceful leaps, but I would only inch backwards slowly. Our eyes were locked on each other for what seemed like quite a while. I’m sure it was only seconds. I said out loud, “Hello.” He didn’t respond. 

Then he looked to the right, then left, then right again. With three impressively graceful bounds, he was out of sight. He chose the trail to the right. 

I understand if he didn’t want to dance any more with me—there with my tiny, frightened steps compared to his majestically beautiful leaps. As I continued my walk in the opposite direction, I kept looking back in case he changed his mind and wanted to try the dance again.

(I only wish I had taken a picture of that prom date. J)

Elizabeth