I walk from the fields back into a wooded dump area. This is not a garbage or trash area but an accumulation of unused worn out implements and historical treasures common to farms and farming life. All were neatly piled or stacked and I am sure there was a fascinating tale behind each piece. A metal tow-behind rake with metal wheels and a metal seat made me think of all possible things that the farmer experienced on this now rusted aging implement. There were very used tires that had sacrificed all of their tread transversing these fields hour upon hour. And then there are the chicken cages that are now outdated by the bounteous commercial offerings of big “factory farms” now being merchandised in our neighborhood supermarket.
I stop at a stump being used as a squirrel’s pantry while he conveniently processes the bounty of the neighboring Shellbark Hickory tree. Shells were everywhere but no tasty inner kernels of the nuts were left for me to sample. I marvel at the new winter wheat that is now four to five inches high and prepared to endure the coming harsh winter to reemerge for a head start sprint toward an early summer harvest. The harvested soy beans now expose an underlying crop of sweet clover to sustain the young steers.
As I crest a small hill, I look down on the peaceful serenity of a family farm that has sustained a cycle of planting, harvest, and animal husbandry for generations. The next generation already is proudly displaying championship Holsteins to continue their heritage. A slight aroma of animal manure and musty moist earth keep me tuned to the realities of the labor involved and not caught up in this fantasy idyllic postcard-like setting.
Soon I spot the evidence in the moist earth that some deer—possibly delicate young does—have crossed this path earlier this morning. Deer seem to be everywhere this time of year as evidenced by the increasing road kills. In fact, we had two magnificent bucks in our front yard several weeks ago posing like lawn ornaments. During this mating season referred to by hunters as “the rut,” deer lose much of their normal reserve and caution in pursuit of their natural instincts. The seasonal timing is tied to a gestation period that permits the does to feed on new green spring growth and provide ample milk for new fawns. Amazing the way everything fits together in perfect timing!
I soon see evidence that I am not the only one that has been seeing these signs of deer activity. As I approach a strategic wooded spot overlooking this peaceful grazing area I notice one, then a second “tree stand.” Both are laboriously constructed on stout hardwood trees and tower about twenty feet in the air. Each has their own elaborate series of steps up the tree for convenient climbing to that level and a small seat for comfortable reconnaissance. One overlooks a hillside path to a small stream and the other, this luscious grazing expanse. The deer may have noticed the construction of these stands but possibly have become oblivious to their eventual intended purpose for their demise.
Makes me realize how vulnerable I am when I keep my focus on pursuing and being pursued by other humans and our endeavors. Even though I may see growing evidence that there is an actual plot for my eventual demise, I am sometimes oblivious unless I am in an obvious conflict. Lastly, if I don’t keep looking up, I may even miss the tip-off of my vulnerabilities to those stealthy forces bent on accusing, seeking and destroying. I have a lot to learn from nature and the wildlife I find so fascinating.
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