Fawns and the Face of the Obvious

I neglected to document my greens, so please accept this photo as
an approximation. These lovely greens are from what looks like a
lovely blog called Real Food Kosher. Her recipe is essentially like mine,
except I also used vidalia onion, and of course, vinegar.

I like those moments I don't know that I am going to have and then find myself in the midst of -- well, I like the moments like this when good things happen.

This morning, sleeping over at the in-laws in Lakewood, I woke up a little before 5 and my lower back was stiff and I couldn't get back to sleep and I knew I had reading to do, so I got up and snuck downstairs to make coffee (of course, I roused my mother-in-law anyway, but she said some kind things about toast and went back to bed). My intention had been to sit in one of the wingbacks in the living room or upstairs in the recliner in the big room where we sleep, but then I realized there was a screened in back porch and it was a cool morning in June.

I took my coffee, the manuscript I was working on, and an aqua blue afghan outside, where it was still dark but the first birds were beginning to sing. I read while the morning bloomed. Every time I looked up from the page, I could see more of the yard and hear more of the birds. At one point, just as the sky was lightening, there was a strange low humming/droning sound come from somewhere high up in the trees. I think it must have been a swarm of midges.

And then just after dawn, two fawns came galloping into the yard from the far corner behind the garage. They stood off to the side and chuffed at each other then galloped some more - back and forth, around and around. It's a big yard, split midway with a fence and a trellised arch covered with roses and hydrangea (I was married under that arch). One fawn would race like crazy from one corner to the other and the second would follow, then the leader would turn and duck and lurch forward and they would do the same thing in reverse. They were clearly playing tag, and sometimes they were trying to psyche each other out -- the one in pursuit stopping while the pursued ran out of site and then, curious, returned. The first would take the advantage and pounce forward and the whole thing would start again. Galloping. Once they even ran around the house -- around the corner to my left and a minute later, loping up the driveway to my right.

This went on for 10 minutes. I'm not kidding. Deer play. Then their mother ambled in at the rear of the yard. She seemed huge and so regal compared to them. And her presence calmed them. They stopped playing and started grazing for breakfast. Just like human toddlers in orbit around there mother, they would wander away from her then turn to nuzzle up against her, then wander some more.

All this and no one else in the house was awake. I hadn't even planned to be. I drank coffee and read for a whole hour more before anyone else even stirred. The mama deer and her fawns spent at least half of that time breakfasting before they stepped through the hedges in the back and out of my site into new territory.

Reading: Finished my friend's manuscript (and talked about it at writers group tonight). Read more of the Dillard book, For the Time Being (almost done, for my original discussion go here), the beginning of City of Ember, and did some research on Polish folktales.

This from the Dillard:

We live in all we seek. The hidden shows up in too-plain sight. It lives captive on the face of the obvious--the people, events, and things of the day--to which we as sophisticated children have long since become oblivious. What a hideout: Holiness lies spread and borne over the surface of time and stuff like color. [I would cite the page number, but I am reading it on a device. I'm sorry.]

This blog is, partially, intended to capture that face of the obvious, and maybe sometimes to make plain what is hidden there. Really, although I hadn't come up with words quite that fine to describe it. So, no wonder I like the book. And it is also about sand, and clouds, and birth, and mating hoopoes, and Chinese clay soldiers, and a Jesuit geologist/archeaologist, among other things.

Writing: None today, but several hours yesterday. On to Tucson, in the manuscript not, sadly, in real life.

Dinner: First big greens feast of the summer! I love summer, when I am getting a City Fresh share so I have greens coming at me nonstop. In the winter, I have to decide to buy greens, and I do, but not as much, and they are not as exuberant.

I made a mix of beet greens, kale, and bok choy, sauteed with onion and garlic in olive oil and doused with malt vinegar and coarse salt These were topped with roasted beets. To go with, I made more pasta with garlic scape  & oregano pesto (one bunch of scapes from last week's share made enough pesto for two pasta dinners and several snacky slathers on crackers or bread).

Soundtrack: A Genius mix based on Lucinda Williams' "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road," and a discussion about whether an enduring preference for "early albums" makes me pretentious (brought on by REM's "Don't Go Back to Rockville" in the mix), and also an appreciation for the several phases of the Rolling Stones.

Random thing: For Father's Day we went to Talespinner's Children's Theatre for The Emperor's Ears. Fun, creative, surprising work. O and Z were both rapt and smiling.