Note: Taken from The Nature Whisperer: Seasons of Light, by Dr. Gloria J. Hill.

An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language.
     ------Martin Buber, I and Thou

Deer hold a magical spell over me. 
Perhaps it all began way back when I was a little girl.
___________

Travel back with me in time as I take you there. Imagine the quiet hush of the night woods and let it begin to seep into your senses.  
Shhhhhh.       We are about to begin.

On that special night, on the eve of Christmas, after all the relatives had gone home, the dishes washed and put away, my dad would give the signal propelling us into high gear, grabbing hats, gloves and warm coats.

"Who's ready to go?"

Thus began the race for prime seating in the cab of our dad's pickup trunk (it was green, not red). Whoever had the misfortune to be last had to suffer the indignity of sitting on a lap, bounced around by the bumpy roads plus a little devilish teasing from us. Soon the jockeying for the best seat-position would end and we would settle down. Expectancy would take center stage. 

We are now on our way. Come along with us.

Soon, houses punctuated with red and green lights give way to acres of farmland, enjoying their winter rest. It is very dark except for moonlight that outlines the treetops as the truck chugs along toward a forested woodland. Shifting down into a low gear, the truck now screams with expectation, slowing toward a narrow dirt road, now caked with snow.  One slow sharp turn and we are in the woods, guarded by large trees on both sides. 

We are silent.  Even the truck is quieted by the snow-packed road. A few hundred yards in and the road tapers into a barely visible lane. Bony arms from skeletal trees reach out, their sharp edges scraping glass and metal.  I wondered. Are they pointing the way or are they guarding our entry?

We finally reach our destination: a small clearing at the end of the road.

Darkness engulfs us, but we are not afraid. We know this place. Not wanting to make any loud sudden noises, we carefully exit the truck. Any other time or place, there would be pushing, shoving and playful name calling, but not tonight. Here in nature's cathedral. we are subdued.

Dad keeps the headlights on as we whisper our way to our destination. Soon the path of lights from the truck will serve another purpose.

We finally come to a clearing where snow covered tree stumps seem to be waiting for us.  We brush off the snow, and I wonder why they seem smaller this year.  And there we sit, very still, waiting with anticipation.  We are seldom disappointed. 

A soft rustling sound stirs our hearts. Attracted to the light beams from the truck, deer silently emerge from the cover of the inky black night. First one, then others. Three . . .  four . . . five.   How many more are out there waiting for a cue?  They stand tall, like nature's royalty, their brown almond-eyes on alert. I wonder what assessments they are  making about us and our intrusion into their world. 

Held in their gaze, we do not move. We sit like statues taking in only short shallow breaths. We know how fleeting our time with them will be. Any quick movements will certainly cause alarm.

But it is Christmas Eve, and their countenance presents a knowing.  There is an exchange between them and us, a wordless language that speaks of beauty, peace and reverence on this silent night. 

One twitch of an ear sends a quiet signal to the herd. Heads turn upward and almost as silently as they appeared, the deer disappear, swallowed up by the darkened forest.  And there we sit, holding on to something we cannot name. 

Dad beckons us to reality, and we reluctantly return to the truck.  My brothers muse about how we might capture a deer and keep one in our backyard. We had the space for it, but somehow the thought of caging and owning deer was disturbing to me.   

It has been a lifetime since those treks into the night woods, yet the memory clings. 

That which you freely let go, will remain.  The Christmas Eve Deer taught me that. 
      -------g. hill

But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. In his hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind.      ------Job 12:7-10

I and Thou was a concept introduced by Martin Buber, a German theologian, in which he presented the spirituality that exists between living beings.  Connectivity.

See Also: The Heart at Christmas: Where Everything Meets and Come as You Are

The Heart at Christmas: Where Everything Meets

Come As You Are

Books by Dr. Gloria Hill

Thank you, dear readers.  Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year for you and yours!