Safe Travels, Deer

I hit a deer coming home from Bible study last Tuesday night. Or he hit me. I’m still not sure how it happened and, thankfully, the memory has pretty well faded away.

But let me tell you, that experience brought to the forefront yet one more time how precious friends are that you know you can count on. I was riding with Faye and, since I was pretty well hysterically crying and moaning, she spoke with the man who pulled up to see if I was all right. They determined that the deer was probably dead. I couldn’t bear to look. Faye quietly told me how to drive the rest of the way home, since I seemed to have forgotten where everything was on the car’s instrument panel.

As we pulled back onto the highway, I began to cry again, afraid that he was injured and would go off into the woods to suffer. I remembered that Tom is a hunter and went directly to his house. Again, since I was sobbing, Faye stepped in and went to the front door of a dark house to ask him if he would go and kill the deer if it was injured.

I dropped Faye off and somehow found my way home. Steve met me in the driveway and showed me where the front door of the house was. Later that night I got a call from Faye to let me know that they had not found the deer. I immediately assumed a conspiracy – everyone was hiding the truth from me to protect me. And that was fine. Somehow it got me through that first night.

The next morning I called Faye and Lynda and Tom to say thank you. I found out that Lynda and Tom on Tuesday night and then Faye the next morning had gone back and searched the ground, ditch and the woods for signs of the deer and/or blood. They found nothing and so I choose to believe that I simply stunned him and he got up and shook it off and trotted on home.

After making sure I was all right, Tom asked me what kind of shape the car was in. I told him the front left fender was dented in, but that was okay, because it now matched the front right fender where Steve had hit another deer almost a year ago. Tom made me aware that we have now bagged our limit. I started looking around and there are a lot of cars on the roads with bent doors and fenders. I believe we’re taking out more than the hunters!

All of which got me to thinking…and remembering. We used to watch “The West Wing”. One day a year, the president would open the White House to everyone who had any weird request or idea that they would like addressed. President “Jed” Bartlett would make his reluctant staff available to hear these bizarre demands.

Press Secretary C.J. Cregg was stuck in a room with a group who were concerned about the endangered wolves that had to migrate to Canada. They were certain that if the government would spend millions of dollars on a highway system for the wolves, they could save them. Asked how the wolves would know to use the highway, they said special signs could be made for them, much like the ones we have with the deer leaping.

That got me to thinking. I don’t really want to run for office. But I would be willing to raise some money – I don’t think it will take millions – to build some overpasses for these poor deer. Post some signs to guide them and let’s get them safely across our roads!

If you wish to contribute, please send a check (made out to me) at 11 North Lake Circle. Thank you for your support. Let get them safely home, shall we?

Round Two from Adventureland

The wildlife is restless this morning. The mullet are, no doubt, having some kinds of athletic games going on – I never heard so much splashing. They make me laugh, the silliest and most fun fish of all. And Steve, so patient, stood for a really long time trying to get a picture for me. What he ended up with is the fish from a weird perspective – you can barely see him above the water. But the picture definitely tells the story: the rings left in the water are his footprints, like a big stone being skipped across.

In the middle of all the shrieking, calling and splashing, we heard a strange “thwack, thwack.” What on earth? There is an old dead tree at the edge of the lake just down from our balcony. A big black cormorant sits there for hours every morning and afternoon. His special spot.

This morning a great blue heron decided it looked appealing. After much posturing and attempted size-intimidation by the heron,

the two decided to have a go at it, beak to beak. Very noisy and exciting. We watched for a good little while, snapping pictures and praying that the camera battery would hold. Finally they managed an uneasy truce with neither of them in total relaxation mode.

Suddenly from just above our heads another heron swept down upon the tree and the two of them flew off across the lagoon. It was majestic and breath-taking. And I was struck that if we had just stopped and looked around a bit, we would have snapped an incredible picture of the heron just above us in the tree.

Meanwhile, the cormorant smoothed out his ruffled feathers, looked around to see if anyone was watching and settled in for his nap.

Have You Ever Seen a Mullet Dance?

The water reflects the Spanish moss, magnolias and palm trees and it is smooth as glass. The surface breaks and a fish comes flying straight up and completes a leap of about ten feet in length. Another one jumps a smaller height and length and immediately reenters the water to jump again and again like a stone being skipped across the surface.

South Carolina is Adventureland for those who love nature. Steve and I are in Hilton Head this week and we're sitting on the balcony of our condo. In the space of less than ten minutes, we saw mullet jumping, turtles and an eight-foot alligator cruising from one end of the lagoon to the other. He was actually moving pretty quickly, gliding on top so that we could see his eyes above the water and the full length of his body. He moved quickly enough that, as he approached the end of the pond where the golf course was, several startled golfers stood watching him with raised clubs. Honest.

We also saw a long-necked cormorant coming toward us across the water. For a crazy minute we thought he was a snake halfway out of the water with a fish in his mouth. We saw only a long, black neck with a fish. His body was completely under the water.

All of this was going on to the accompaniment of the flapping sound of mullet hitting the water. The next flapping sound was of me hitting the internet to try to find out why they jump. There was the entertaining (and wrong) answer that they see where they are going by jumping. Some said that they are plant eaters but they jump to flee predators and they have the strength to jump as many times as they need to in order to escape. There were other explanations about their being able to absorb oxygen and such, but I was getting bored and went back out to watch the show. Wondering why I haven't posted a picture? Because they're so fast, you basically have to set your camera on an area of water and wait. Frankly, I didn't want the picture that badly.

We have seen great blue herons and a rookery where over fifty white egrets come to roost every night with much squawking. The rookery is at the edge of a lagoon with, you guessed it, more mullet. So there is much flapping and squawking and jumping and splashing. Adventureland. Come on down!

Life in the Wild

Life pounds with excitement here at the ranch. I receive some tough family news on Wednesday. So I'm already fragile and teary. And Chloe is driving me crazy, will not shut up and will not leave the wall unit, where the books are, alone. Finally I’ve had it. Refuse to cry anymore – might as well play some Nintendo. I go over to the corner and reach down to pick up my Nintendo by the wall unit. I catch a flash of something long and slithery. I'm thinking RATS, it’s a snake. So I jump up and see this lizard about 8 inches long just as he darts back behind the wall unit.

Steve gets home from golf and I’m crying again and blubbering something about lizards. He calms me down and we call the exterminator who says there’s nothing we can do but get a broom and chase him out. Or we could go to Walmart and get some of those glue trays and trap him. So we go to Walmart.

When we get back, there he stands by the back door. I get rid of the dogs and Steve sneaks around and opens the back door via the porch. Then he comes in with a broom and says “I’m going to scare him outside.” I’m saying “NO! What if he just runs across the room and then he’s got access to the bedroom!” I park myself on a stool to watch him and Steve says, “Okay then. I’m going to the pool.” (I KNOW, right?)

He goes to the pool and for the next 2 hours the dogs and I chase the lizard all over the house. By this time I’m feeling sorry for the little guy because Chloe is...well...big! And I’m not about to glue his little feet to a trap. So Steve comes home and, you guessed it, I’m sobbing again – this time because I’m feelin’ it for the lizard. He’s trapped in the dining room and he’s too tired to even get up on the bookcase. Long story short (I know, too late) we get some big empty plastic boxes and eventually corral him and put the top on and I release him into the wild. At the time, I never thought I’d laugh about it. But I have to say, now I wish I had a video.

Then today Chloe just snaps right out of her collar chasing a rabbit. Steve’s yelling out the back, “Chloe’s loose! I’ll get the golf cart!” Understand, when she got loose in Woodbridge, I was desperate. But here? It’s more funny than anything. Steve goes charging across lawns in the golf cart yelling, “Chloe! Get in the house!” And he’s literally herding her with the golf cart from side to side. She can outrun Steve but she knows she can't outrun the cart. I’m standing in the yard thinking, I should be concerned about this but I can’t concentrate for the theme from Rawhide that’s playing in my brain. Yeehaw!

Nose to the Ground

Walking our treeing walker coonhound, Chloe, exercises our persistence and patience. We must keep her head up and looking forward. Only then will she move at a reasonable pace. If we allow her to put nose to the ground, our forward progress stops. We can spend several minutes in one spot while she sniffs love letters from other dogs, promises from rabbits and messages left from who knows how many wild things that may have crossed the path over the previous hours.

Scenthounds are gorgeous creatures because of those beautiful sad eyes and the large droopy ears and jowls. Those of you who love hounds know what I’m talking about. Those of you scratching your heads, or shaking them in disagreement just need to trust me. A sweeter class of dog simply doesn’t exist. True, they are woefully stubborn, but their loyalty and personality make up for it.

Specializing in following a smell, the hound has droopy ears and extra folds of skin that help collect scent from the air and keep it near the dog's face and nose. Most of these breeds have deep, booming voices and they are entertaining to hear…for a while. They do not have to be as fast as sighthounds but they must be able to stick with a scent and follow it wherever it leads.

While my ears are normal size, I do tend to resemble my coonhound in seeking the way God intends for me to go. I proceed nose to the ground, searching, searching. I’m moving slowly forward – reading and highlighting my Bible, going to Bible study, going to church – always busy. I fret because I’m concerned that I’m on the wrong path, that I may miss what He has for me to do, just like Chloe who has been known to miss spotting a rabbit because she is obsessing over a patch of weeds.

I’m studying “Discerning the Voice of God” by Priscilla Shirer. Listen to what she says:

“We look around every corner to discover God’s will. We often carry a load of responsibility because we wonder if our decisions are in God’s will. Desiring and doing His will is not our responsibility to discover; it’s His responsibility to reveal…No longer do I frantically search for God’s will; I frantically search for God. I trust that it is His responsibility to show me what He wants me to do and how to do it by speaking through the Holy Spirit and the Word of God.”[1]

Often believers who are experiencing what I am going through refer to “being in the desert.” I was active, productive and involved in Northern Virginia. I find myself now in a holding pattern. It is ludicrous for me to call my situation a desert one. God chose what is surely one of the most beautiful places on the East Coast to relocate me. And my spiritual life, my relationship with God, feels anything but dry. My time with Him is full, lush and well-watered.

My sense of direction is simply confused. But I have learned to take my nose off the ground and look up. I believe God is telling me to just dwell in Him these days. And so many times in my life, He has given me a time of rest to prepare for what is coming. Because when He gets busy, I have to run, head up. No time to stop and sniff!

Philippians 3:13b, 14
But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.




[1] Priscilla Shirer, Discerning the Voice of God (Lifeway Press, 2006) 41-42

Southern Turtles

I’ve come full circle in so many ways since moving back to the South. Take turtles, for instance. I grew up in Arkansas where turtles always ambled across the streets and highways. I had forgotten them until I took a trip home to visit my relatives. I was following Steve’s folks home from dinner when I lagged behind because I stopped to pick up a turtle and move him across the street.

You don’t see many turtles in northern Virginia. They’re either very smart or very dead. One look at a road there will tell them it isn’t safe. The dangers are obvious and many. The swamps and woods offer the best protection.

In South Carolina turtles generally approach the edge of the road and see a clear way, though I’m fairly sure they don’t check both directions. They step out, slowly…always…and begin the long journey to the other side.

Dangers approach without warning on rural Carolina roads. Cars that are coming are coming fast. And yet the turtle has rarely calculated his odds before stepping out. Either I help him across, the next driver swerves or the turtle is airborne. (I prefer not to address the other scenario.)

We often sidestep sin rather easily by avoiding the road with the vehicles flying by. The signs flash a warning. To go that way is obviously dangerous; it’s easy to bypass. It’s when the highway seems most clear, when we are drifting along without any concern or thought of wrong – considering ourselves relatively flawless and feeling smug about the fact – that we are most likely to get hit.

It’s when I’m feeling pious and holy that I’m most likely to lash out in impatience or say something snippy. When my guard is down, my pride is usually up. Doors to gossip, judging, and hypocrisy slide open. And wham! My mouth gets me in trouble. Oops, did I say that out loud? I look at someone in the store and form a wayward opinion. I treat someone in a shabby way. Bottom line…I find that I’m not at all that person I thought I was. My mom was right when she told me to look both ways.

Romans 7:15, 17-20, 24; 8:1-2
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it…What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.