Friday, January 26, 2018

Living with Deer

When the weather is warm and dry, I like to meditate very early in the morning out in nature. I have a special place under a large Douglas Fir, on a bank in the maples. On a Sunday morning in July, I was sitting in my spot, when I heard unusual sounds - soft, hesitant sounds I hear when deer are near, a snap followed by silence, then another sound. I peeked around the snowberry bush I was sitting behind to see a small deer up the path. It appeared to see me and stamped it's hooves in rapid succession. I could not tell if it had spots. We stared at each other for a moment, then I retreated behind the shrub to continue my meditation. After some time, I heard more hesitant snaps and peeked around the bush again. The deer was still there and it 'chuffed' at me (my made-up word for a sharp exhale with a little high-pitched throat sound). It repeated the sound several times, then turned and went up the path, paused and chuffed again. The sound has an aggressive quality to it. Was it trying to frighten me? The same thing happened a couple of months earlier, I was sitting in my spot when I heard an unfamiliar sound and peeked around the bush. This action frightened a tiny fawn who was climbing onto the path, causing it to scramble up the path. A big deer (momma?) appeared from above (the direction the fawn had gone), looked at me, and chuffed. It repeated this aggressive sound many times. It was a bit scary. I wondered if it might charge me. It turned and went up the path, chuffing along the way, then wandered around chuffing at the top of the bluff before leaving. I wondered about the significance of the strange sound. Deer certainly recognize humans, I run them out of the garden periodically. Perhaps, when they see my hatted head covered in a black tulle mosquito net peeking out from behind the bush, I don't appear human. I am seated and leaning forward to take a peek, so I'm shorter than a grown deer. I probably look like an animated blob, bobbing behind a bush. Perhaps they chuff to try to get this strange creature to reveal itself, so they know whether or not to be afraid.

This one is in front of our garden gate, eating aronia leaves. The garden is not deer fenced. I like to think we have an agreement, so far it has worked out. They can have all the aronia leaves they want, and they don't get inside the garden.
In the late '90s, I did a vision quest with dancing and meditation, which culminated in a ritual to reveal a power animal. Although I was somewhat ambivalent about the notion of a power animal, I was completely engaged in the whole dance meditation process. During the part where we were waiting for our animal spirit to appear - nothing came. Nothing. I was a bit worried that I would be the only person who did not get an animal. Eventually,  a hesitant deer showed up. My response? 'Wait, there must be a mistake, maybe another animal will come along?' Not yet ready to own a fraidy-cat deer as a symbol of power, I don't remember if I even bothered to look up the meaning of deer as a symbolic animal. I dissed my animal, no wonder it was hesitant to appear. I never had interactions with deer, they were not a part of my city life. It was exciting to see them, when they (rarely) appeared. However, until I moved to Oregon, deer were never a part of my life.

What have I learned about deer living around them? They are not as timid as I thought. Early one morning (around 5:20am, when it was too early to yell) I attempted to chase a deer out of a neighbor's blueberries. It moved about four feet and stood behind a snowberry bush watching me. Perhaps it assumed the two-legged creature was too stupid to have object permanence. It took a number of attempts to get it to move, and each time it moved a few yards, then stopped and waited for me to go away. I finally left it on another neighbor's front porch, looking in the window. (That neighbor wouldn't mind, and I needed to get to meditation.) When I jump around yelling and and waving my arms at them, they calmly stare at me with those big, brown eyes, like they have never seen such idiotic behavior. They are not easily intimidated. They seem patient. They expect me to give up and leave them alone. They like to eat my peas. It's disappointing when they get my peas. They also eat the leaves off apple trees, and aronia bushes. I have no problem with them eating aronia leaves. They can have all they want, if they leave the peas alone. Tulips. I gave up on tulips because they eat the flowers like lollipops. There are plenty of reasons to not enjoy deer in my garden. And, I still get excited when I see them. They bring wonder.


Redtail pair watches over Coho

You may have noticed the lone hawk sitting in one of the twin towers early in the mornings. Or you may have seen one circling over the cemetery and floating over the buildings of Coho. For the longest time, I could not tell what variety of hawk it could be. Early in the morning, with the bright background, it was difficult to see details in his feathers, and I never caught him flying away from the tree. At times, I could swear I heard the cry of a redtail near the orchard, but never saw the bird, which caused me to wonder if I was just hearing things. Yesterday he appeared with a partner, sitting in the twin towers. The smaller bird had her back to Coho, the larger bird, on his customary perch, sat facing west. The new bird's back feathers seemed dark and hard to read. However, her tail was on the short, square side. His tail was not visible from the side. She flew off to the west.
This morning they appeared on the same branches together facing Coho and the cloud cover made it easier to see their light colored breasts with a faint darker bar across the middle, and distinctive dark heads. They are looking like for-real redtail hawks. When the smaller bird flew away from the perch to the west, she flew to a nest in a tree in the neighborhood, a block or so away. I later saw her fly away from the nest, down towards Sunshine Corner gardens. Unless she was conducting a raid on a squirrels' nest, we may have redtail chicks to look forward to this spring!
Not a great photo, just the best we could do with our little cameras.