I saw a deer grazing on the side of the road.  A small doe.  She seemed oblivious to me until she sensed me slowing down and taking notice.  She looked up, but didn’t run away.  I was delighted by the unexpected experience.  I continued on my way and as my son climbed into the car, I reminded myself to tell him about the deer I had just seen.  First, though, I asked, as I always do, how his class had been and he told me and soon we were engaged in conversation about other things.  I forgot about the deer.  About 15 minutes later, we had both fallen silent and we were almost home.   I remembered then, about the deer, and I almost brought it up.  But, as easy as it is to say, “I saw a deer on the side of the road just before I picked you up”, it is not easy to describe how the sight filled me with joy, or why.  It was a deer.  On the side of the road.  Not an unusual sight.  Not a big deer or a fawn, not a family of deer,  just a solitary run-of-the-mill average every day doe.  Doe a deer.  A female deer.  So what?  Or maybe it should be Doe-Re-Mi-Far-So What.

I didn’t tell him or anyone about it.  I’m keeping it for myself.  A little jewel of a memory about the time I took that exit and saw a beautiful doe grazing nonchalantly on the side of the road, just being a deer, doing what deer do, and it made me so happy for no reason that I can think of.  Every once in awhile, I’ll take that one out and polish it up, admire it for a minute or two, then set it back beside its equally beautiful siblings.  What small things have filled you with joy?

  15 comments for “Jewels

  1. November 7, 2015 at 5:05 am

    Summer of 1969, I encountered a doe on a mountain trail. She gave me a calm, inquiring look, then walked gracefully into the forest. It reminded me so much of someone I knew in the city that I wrote to her by campfire light that evening. I still get that look.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. jenny_o
    November 7, 2015 at 6:27 am

    Like your sighting, my special moments seem to involve encounters with nature. I really like this essay, Chicken.

    I missed your previous post and only saw this one by accident, so I am newly following you. Why did I never do that before? Anyhow, I had no thoughts on the Budapest post so I kept my yap shut. For some reason I thought it was vital to tell you that.

    Liked by 1 person

    • November 7, 2015 at 4:37 pm

      Hi Jenny, you can comment or stay silent-whatever your heart desires. I knew that you would understand this post. It’s actually an old one that I found in my draft folder. For some reason, I never published it. I guess maybe I thought I was going to revise it but when I read it over I liked it just as it was.


  3. Judith Blacquier
    November 7, 2015 at 12:57 pm

    mr. or ms. chicken,

    your post and musings about your encounter with the deer touched my heart.

    all i can say is …. LOVE…… pure and simple.

    how do you describe LOVE, really ?

    it can only be experienced.

    but as one who’s heart sings to the tune of the natural world and her beloveds, your sharing was a gift.

    it’s fine to sing alone,

    but knowing there are other’s out there whose heart is singing to the same tune……. ?

    to quote from the book, INTO THE WILD,


    who loves ya’ chicken !!!!!



  4. November 7, 2015 at 3:46 pm

    Great post! We use to have a huge oak tree in the front of our home, and I spent many evenings staring out the front window watching all the little creatures that used it as their place to be. Then on one evening I looked up to see a opossum his tiny paws crossed with his head resting on them, starring into our home watching us. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had decided to end it’s day the same way that I had. 😉 G-uno


    • November 7, 2015 at 4:34 pm

      hi idioglossiablog-I love that story-thank you for sharing it. I’ll bet that’s just what he was doing! I havve a story in here somewhere about an opossum that was stuck in one of our window wells a couple falls ago and how we got him out. It was probably an October 2013 post, maybe Nov.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Doug in Oakland
    November 7, 2015 at 8:32 pm

    When I was a junior in high school, I used to take a trail through the woods behind our house that cut almost a mile off of the length of the walk to school. One morning, in my semi-awake state, I came pretty much face to face with a big, fat raccoon sitting on a stump halfway up the side of a gully the trail ran through. I was startled, and froze in my tracks, but the raccoon just sat there, staring at me. He didn’t seem impressed by what he saw. I finally bid him good morning and continued on my way. Later, I wondered why I had been so startled, as I had spent much time in the woods, and encountered many species of wildlife, from bugs to bears, and yet when I emerged onto Buhne street at the end of the trail, I found that I was shaking a little. I didn’t tell any of my friends or classmates about the encounter, mostly for the reasons you mentioned: So you saw a raccoon? That’s nice… I did later use it as the inspiration for a story that I actually got published in a tiny, local magazine, although I changed the raccoon into a magical snake… It wasn’t a great story. Your encounter with the deer made me think of that feeling, though, the one I found myself unable to communicate at the time.


    • November 8, 2015 at 11:42 am

      Hi Doug, I just realized that my last post was also about feelings I couldn’t describe. I’m sensing a trend. In your case, it’s almost like Mary had a little lamb who followed her to school one day, only it was Doug had a big raccoon. Or a magical snake. Either or. Haha. You were probably right to be a little concerned about seeing a raccoon during the daytime hours, especially one that didn’t shuffle off the minute it saw you coming.


  6. November 8, 2015 at 8:38 pm

    I get you. 🙂


  7. November 8, 2015 at 11:35 pm

    I love this, Chicken. And I can so relate. I live where I see deer all the time, but each sighting feels like its own little gift from God. Yesterday, I saw a buck at the top of my driveway. It was magnificent and we just stared at each other. Hawks make me feel the same way. Red tails circle above me all the time, but ever so often one will land on a fence that I just happen to be passing. I’ll stop, look at him at eye level and just marvel at my good fortune. These are the moments that make me feel most alive.


    • November 9, 2015 at 6:38 pm

      Hi Jayne,
      Wow, you really see a lot of wild life. Maybe it’s because you are a bit wild yourself? I have a friend who is an energy worker. She once said that sightings like yours are the old masters checking in with us. Today at a stressful moment I looked out the window and saw a cardinal just standing in the grass across from me. It changed my whole perspective. There are so many things we get all uptight over and they really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Or even the sub-grand scheme.


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