Across the street from our house is a fairly densely wooded 7-acre park. Every spring migrating birds swoop in for a month and the park is overrun with very dedicated birders who can be found arguing about whether a particular bird call is an indigo bunting or a scarlet tanager.
\nWhen the birds aren’t here the park is inhabited by fairly pedestrian animals – chipmunks, raccoons, and a rumored fox or two.
\nThis spring, however, things began to change when our neighbor reported that her prized flowers were being eaten by something. At first we suspected teenage vandalism. That didn’t seem quite right, however. A large bird? A hungry raccoon? The discussion went on for days until our neighbor – a 70-something woman with a thick Boston accent – came running out of her backyard yelling, “Dee-ah!!! Dee-ah!!! There’s a damn deee-ah in my backyahd!!!”
\nWe went back, looked, and marveled at the buck sitting calmly in Barbara’s backyahd.
\nHe wasn’t a timid buck. As we approached we glanced at us while munching on some flower or another. We backed off.
\nAfter 10 minutes or so he got up, stretched, looked at us as if to say goodbye and jumped over Barbara’s fence and was gone.
\nHow did the deer get to the park?
\nThere are no rational explanations. There isn’t another park of any note – meaning larger than the kind of park that supports children’s playground equipment – for miles. Make that miles and miles and miles and miles.
\nNo one can figure out how this deer suddenly appeared.
\nMy theory is that he took the bus. One neighbor thinks he came in on roller skates.
\nIt is a great, great mystery. Another example of something that God does\/allows just so he can see us scratching our heads.
\nI’ll post a picture if we can get one.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Across the street from our house is a fairly densely wooded 7-acre park. Every spring migrating birds swoop in for a month and the park is overrun with very dedicated birders who can be found arguing about whether a particular bird call is an indigo bunting or a scarlet tanager. When the birds aren’t here…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-542","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-faith"],"yoast_head":"\n