Tags
animals, Beauty, Christian thought, creation, Deer, hillside beach manitoba, humour, John Mortimer, nature, photography, romance, Rumpole of the Bailey, short-stories
I had decided to eat out that day. It was a perfect day, warm with a very slight breeze. Enough to be comfortable but not enough to disturb napkins or ruffle the pages of my book. I like eating alone, if I have an enjoyable book. I was having a second or third helping of one of John Mortimer’s Rumpole series. I was in a relaxed and open mood, enjoying Rumpole’s caustic observations and his under-the-breath commentary. I was in a receptive frame of mind.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a slight movement and felt I was being observed. It’s wonderful how the periphery of our vision is so attuned to the slightest movement.
I finished the sentence I had been reading, I hate being interrupted mid-sentence. I looked up, nonchalantly, not moving my head, but raising my eyes.
There she was, stunningly beautiful, very close to my table. She had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, deep, brown, intense, yet so soft and bright. I felt my breath catch and hold. She was looking at me with an intensity that was a little disturbing. I raised my head a little and, quite blatantly looked back. I gave her a small smile.
Her expression didn’t change, but I sensed a slight tightening of her neck muscles. What a beautiful neck it was. Long and slender. We gazed at each other, with our own thoughts. There was no sense of embarrassment or intrusion.
She looked away and down at her lunch. She took a few delicate bites. It was then that I first noticed her legs. Long, strong, elegant legs. The legs of an athlete, with the grace of a dancer. She was mesmerizing. Her hair shone in the dappled sunlight, it was an auburn colour, rich and jewel-like with sun reflecting highlights.
I was so attracted to her beauty that my lunch lay left untouched in front of me. I was smitten. I wanted to move closer, to speak gently to her, to let her know how beautiful she was. But, I was afraid the magic between us would be broken.
She continued gracefully eating her meal, every few seconds stopping to look at me. Her gaze was so soft and intense.
She was the first to finish the meal. It was with sadness that I saw her look at me one last time, then with that quiet grace slowly walk away.
I sat for sometime thinking about what had passed between us. Eventually I went back to my book and finished reading the Rumpole story. It was hard to concentrate.
Now, whenever I sit on the deck at the lake eating lunch and reading, I hope to look up and see that beautiful doe again, standing, eating, watching. Such elegance and self-confidence. Such an intimate connection between species.
I have a confession, this might actually be a young buck! The final photograph refused to uploaded – but it was the deer disappearing into the trees.