Nature sure seems to be occupying my mind lately. I’m not complaining, understand. On the contrary, I am enjoying having the natural world in my head.
It’s a great place to spend one’s time. My wife agrees. Every day of every season brings something new, something surprising. Our latest encounter with amazement began as Becky was taking a routine morning walk out to get the newspaper.
I was still in morning coffee mode when she whispered through the screen door, “Norman, come quickly. You need to see this.” I slipped on some shoes then followed quietly about halfway down our driveway to a shady weed patch we like to call our “wildflower garden.”
She pointed to a small something curled among the plants. A little fawn. A very little fawn. Was it sleeping? Was it dead? No, we could see the faint movement of breathing. As we continued to watch, its large dark eyes opened to watch us. Still no movement though.
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Although Becky said later she wanted nothing more at that moment than to cuddle the little baby, we knew it was best to let it be.
We were concerned though. What if she — we decided with no real evidence it was a she — was abandoned by her mother? What if she were sick and/or diseased? We called the Department of Natural Resources who referred us to the Division of Field and Wildlife where we talked to Bill who answered our questions.
The baby was likely not diseased and probably not abandoned. Mothers will often leave their fawns in a safe spot for a time. She will almost certainly come back, we were told. That gave us hope.
For the rest of morning we did our best to avoid getting anywhere near the fawn. We took the long way around as we walked to and from the vegetable garden keeping as quiet as possible as we neared the “wildflower garden.”
In the afternoon we attempted to move the car quietly down the driveway as we passed the fawn on our way to Nashville. The first thing we did when we got back home was to check on our visitor. The fawn was gone.
The next morning we left for a two-day church conference in Indianapolis. We were sure the fawn-mother reunion was a good omen for our trip, and we shared our story several times while there. We returned home rejuvenated from the conference and still in good spirits about the baby deer outcome.
It had been two days since we had checked on our vegetables, a lifetime for a new garden, so we headed out. The tomato plants were definitely bigger, the squash and pumpkin had spread widely. We walked around to the other side of the green bean fence. Surprise! the little fawn was lying with legs tucked underneath herself.
Like the garden plants she seemed bigger than before. Certainly more alert as she lifted her head and looked right at us. I pulled my phone out to take a picture.
That was enough movement to cause our fawn to stand up on her spindly legs and move quickly toward the fence. After a bit of searching, she found an escape route and ran into the woods. Knowing the maternal instinct is strong, we were comforted.
“Surely, she and her mother will find each other,” we told ourselves and went back to nurturing our new garden.
Just a few days later our neighbor Kelly sent Becky a photo her husband Brian had captured with his tree cam. It shows a large doe stepping lightly through a nearby meadow. Following behind is a small, spotted fawn. It is always a decision, a personal choice to believe. We choose to believe that was our little fawn.
