Staring out into the pitch black, my eyes adjust
slowly. Except for the few lights on the
outside of the lodge and the farmhouse, the rest of Eden Hall campus is
enveloped in the quiet, dark void that accompanies nightfall. Not a car on the road to make a sound, only
the steady hum of electricity powering the fog light nearby. It seems there’s always a distraction out
here of some kind, some sort of human creation that’s interfering with my
observation of the natural world in its pristine state.
As my eyes have begun to adjust, I walk away from the light
at my back toward the garden. Stratus
clouds, blocking out any view of the stars, are visible in the night sky. If this were a clear night in Gibsonia, this
would be the place to do some star gazing.
I imagine that the sky out here would look a lot like it does at home,
450 miles away. No light pollution to
stop the brilliant beaming of countless stars.
Passing through the rear gate of the garden and walking out
onto the field, I decide that since I can’t see the stars on this cloudy
evening, I’ll wait and look for the albino deer that’s supposed to frequent
these open fields. I’m told that around
dusk is a good time to spot him. But I’m
told that you can see him in the dark too, as long as there is a little light
to reflect off of his coat. Even though
it looks as if the sun has long set, it’s only six in the evening. Maybe nature’s anomaly will, by chance, grace
me with his presence.
I wait. In the cold,
dry air. In the dark. In the quiet.
Nothing.
Only the thoughts in my mind and my shifting feet on the
ground make a sound. Something about
this deer is so compelling, I want to wait longer. Like some kind of a legend around Eden Hall,
seeing the deer is a sight reserved only for privileged observers.
Tonight isn’t the night.
The cold is forcing me back to the lodge, to the welcoming warmth of
human creation. No matter. There will be other nights. The stars weren’t even out this time.
The stars really weren't out tonight, were they? So cold. I love that you ended with this.
ReplyDeleteI am very intrigued by this albino deer. I perked up just at the mention of him/her.
This entry was great. Effortless to read. I was there with you the whole time and really wanted to be there. There is a sort of calm that comes through the piece. Very pleasant.
I really liked your opening. It was lyrical and totally captures the early dark of Fall. Your transition into how man always has something to interfere with nature was also intriguing.
ReplyDeleteLastly, I've never heard of this Albino deer, so it's kinda cool to learn about this. The way you described him as a legend made me think of him as a Patronus from Harry Potter, especially the way you made the setting so magical.
You've inspired me! Thanks for this piece. I like the search for the deer, the nighttime, the starless sky--it all evokes an effortless mood.
ReplyDeleteThere's such a present sense of hopeful anticipation in this entry. I'm thinking more on the idea of what kinds of distractions we each have that keep us from being able to see the wider world around us.
ReplyDeleteSuch a great moment. I really loved your first paragraph, especially this line: "It seems there’s always a distraction out here of some kind, some sort of human creation that’s interfering with my observation of the natural world in its pristine state." It really conveys the thesis of your post.
ReplyDeleteI also like how you end- with an expectation to see the deer in the future, under a starlit sky.
Beautifully written.
I found it fascinating that you didn't see the deer--and yet the blog post still focused on him. Almost an entry of anticipation and unanswered hope. I like the two short lines, "Nothing," and "Tonight isn't the night." It seemed to me to be a hope for next time, not a mournful hope. Inspiring. Thanks!
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