After moving to a rural area last year, having lived in the city all of my life, the differences were obvious, there is a unique rhythm couched on either side by the rising and setting of the sun.  Morning brought the song of finches and robins, the sharp crow of the rooster, a distant neighing of the herd of horses down the lane and the soft hum of the bees swarming the lavender.  The evening was quieter with the solitary hoot of the owl and far distant howl of one or two coyotes.  But, in the evening, just as dusk settled in, the deer would come. Every evening they come to graze, a few at a time, taking their turns over the unfolding of the evening.  

I really did not pay too much attention, just looking out of the corner of my eye as they appeared beyond the windows, until my dog passed. Buddy was the best dog.  He had been with me through raising three kids, a extended illness, spending his days keeping me company in my studio. He enriched our family’s life with unconditional love in that way that  dogs have shown themselves to be far superior to humans.  

After he was gone, that empty spot, that sense that there is another being quietly sharing your space was so pronounced, but I realized something one day.  I was paying attention to the deer.  When they came I stopped what I was doing and just watched them.  Sometimes I waved to them or went out on to the porch to talk with them.  They stopped being startled at my presence and shared their space with me, ignoring me or sometimes just making eye contact. 

Among these visitors was a young buck. He was the only one who would sit and stay sometimes for 3-4 hours.  He watched me as I had learned to watch the others.  One evening he followed me from window to window as I would walk through the house.  It was magic and reminded me of the gift of a creature’s presence.  The next day I started this painting.  This seemed like the right response to my gratitude to these majestic ones and my faithful and loving pup for their gifts to us.