Curious to find out what lay at the top of the hill behind my house, I clambered up the slope, sliding on the ancient layers of leaf duff that had built up over the years to form a thick, slippery surface. I slithered and tripped as I climbed, while jays screeched a warning at my approach. At the crest of the hill, I stopped. In front of me was a flat empty field. The field was blanketed with tall grass that had never been mowed in its lifetime. Here and there were elliptical indentations, nest-like spaces where the grass was flattened, as if a body had lain down and curled up in each one.
I had found the place where the deer sleep.
|Painting by Nicole McGrath|