After the Attack

The sun was a big orange ball starting to clear the tree-line as we headed off this morning. It was still early enough on this crisp morning that most neighbors had not recovered their newspapers.

There is no blood or crime tape marking the place of our attack, but we are still marked (me more than Paddy according to my friend Steve - the dog whisperer) and were more than alert as we crossed the street to give the area a wide berth...

The park seemed like it was waiting for us, perhaps since our efforts to get there were blocked for a few days. We missed it and it missed us. And, as brave girls, Padimus and I decided to wander down the dirt road and visit the meadows too. 

We could see the fresh tracks in the dust of the road. They were here, the deer. (That the skunks had been there was clear too, although we saw none of their tracks.)

The wild verbena are huge and beautiful - a new carpet of purple. Ahead on the road the birds (including a cardinal - thank you God for all the birds, but especially for some that are not brown and grey. I love those as well, but I need to be able to identify a few) flitted back and forth from one side to the other.

We heard some rustling in the woods, but feared we were simply too late...until we reached the back meadow. We were rewarded for our courage this day. One deer was just entering the clearing from the woods. It snorted a warning and a second doe joined it. They ran and stopped, ran and stopped, crossing the entire meadow. We watched them, white flags waiving back and forth as they entered the brush again.

With the sun at our backs we went home, again skirting THAT place. We noted the parade of parents heading to the playing fields. And we complain of congested roadways no more remembering our good neighbors...