After a long interval while my busy life has intruded upon my creative life, I am back and with a story to tell - or at least an essay I wrote a while ago that I would like to share.
To begin, let me introduce this short story or essay by saying that this October has been a month full of death in various forms. Sad deaths or endings, and deaths that are just a precursor to a new beginning. Fall in itself is the beginning of that little death that is winter. Fall is filled with dying leaves and, here and there, bared tree limbs looking like skeletal bones being lifted up to the skies. But we all know that fall comes before the beginning of a new year and life beginning again in the spring. This year fall has included the ending of a job for one of my co-workers (a feeling akin to mourning pervades my workplace when we talk about our friend who no longer works with us). But her job ending may be the first step along the road to a new beginning. Then just over a week ago a wonderful, warm, caring woman lost her fight with the Big C. She was a pillar of support for our church and a great friend to me. She was a giving and loving woman who will be missed by a big family and many, many friends.
And then nearly every day as I drive to work through the colorful falling leaves, I see at least one new animal lying dead alongside the road. I'd venture to say that almost half of these children of Nature that have met their end through a deadly meeting with a vehicle are deer.
It is both sad and scary to see these graceful creatures lying lifeless alongside the road. Each time I see any animal in such a circumstance, I grieve. But when I see these large animals in ever increasing numbers littering the roadsides I not only think about their poor dead souls - I also wonder and worry about the human who drove the vehicle that hit them. And then my animal alert system goes into overdrive and I grip the steering wheel a little harder as I continue on my way. My brain brings forth the fact that fall is the season deer become more active, appearing suddenly from the underbrush or leaping over fences and down hillsides, dashing across roads. And as I drive along those roads littered with deer carcasses, my tension ratchets up several notches.
A couple years ago, I wrote an essay or short story about all my own deer encounters. I will present it here in my blog - serialized - over the next few days, the last days of October, as we come to Halloween.