Walking through my kitchen I looked ahead to the outside door of the sun room. Something caught my eye and I walked quickly in that direction, to see a doe and her two babies walking by. The mother walked casually with her longer legs. The rust colored fawns with their speckled coats had difficulty keeping up with her. She walked steadily on, not slowing her pace. The babies had to walk in double time to catch up then slow down, but not for long. No doubt she was showing them a safe place to go for a walk and perhaps find some tidbits for grazing. I could not tell which path they used to come to my drive up on this hill; but I could see where they were headed. She steadily led them south to the grass in front of my walled flower garden, then continued west and into the woods.
I wondered where they were going, as in the distance I could hear rumbling thunder. Where would they find refuge from the coming storm? Her trusting twins did not stray from her leadership, but dutifully followed.
Summer rains are fascinating. I stretched out on the bench at the end of the sun room, and settled in for the duration of the storm. As the outside darkened, the rumbling, rolling thunder came closer and became louder. The lightening picked up it's pace. First I heard the rain hit the south windows, loud thuds seemed to echo through the room. Then the pelting drops began on the windows in the sun room, not the same loud thuds but more persistent pings hitting the glass. As the rain increased, it began to pool at the north drain pipe, making splashing noises in the water. Metallic strikes came from drips hitting the drain pipe. Persistent drops came running off the porch roof, not in a steady stream but skips of water falling fast like a tap dancer's feet moving across a polished stage, in a hurry to get to the other side.
Mother Nature was having a grand time presenting her power in her own inimitable way. Nothing could stop her concert, nor should it. All of her creative powers were leashed out onto this house and hill. The leaves and branches gave way to her forceful wind, bowing and blowing in the wake of her strength.
Where could the doe and her twins find protection from this force of nature? Perhaps she found shelter in the bank of a mossy slope with her babies nestled close to her body. Did she enjoy the storm as much as I did? Were her babies frightened by the lightening and the ear bursting thunder? Surely they felt the security of their mother's presence as the rain rolled off her back and protected them from the worst of it all.
The entire storm lasted three quarters of an hour, not exactly music to sleep by. Eventually the thunder could be heard from further away, and the rain slackened. The lightening moved away and the earth was left saturated with nourishing water, enough to leave puddles, little streams, and rivulets along the side of the gravel road where the fawns that so recently walked. What stories did they have to tell when they got back to their home place? Will they be less afraid when they are caught out in another summer storm? I like to think they will remember it all as the time mother curled up with them and comforted them in a mossy bank.
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