A glimpse of grace

The morning sun had just broken through the treetops when I saw her standing motionless at the edge of the wood just outside the chain link fence that bordered the ball field. A fine mist was rising from the grassy expanse; and as the mist lifted, suddenly, there she was, standing stock still, ears erect, regarding my frozen form.

Involuntarily, my hand came up to brush a mosquito off my cheek; one of her ears simultaneously twitched. My hand came down; her ear returned to assume its vigilant post.

She turned her head momentarily to scan the forest; I shifted my stance. She dipped her nose as if to scent the grass, then brought her head up. She lifted a slender foreleg and planted a black hoof daintily back down in the grass. Slowly she walked along the edge of the wood, hesitantly high-stepping, as though she were a show horse, striding before a panel of top-hatted judges. Her coat gleamed golden brown in the sunlight against the backdrop of lemon green.

At length she reached the road that stretched before me, stopped, dipped her nose, then raised her head, turning to look at me once more. Shortly, she stepped out onto the tarmac, walked across the expanse and in one smooth leap, vaulted over the high brush into the forest.

Quietly, I edged along the road, peering into the wood. Suddenly she appeared, framed by the forest foliage, looking directly at me. Once again I froze. With a short snort the doe leapt up and disappeared through the trees.

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