Under this morning's pink-cloud sky, two deer high-tailed into my field of view, bounding. I thought of hunters. Then came a third, larger, bounding more slowly, tail not raised. Then the two each circled around, and tagged one another. This little group must be the mother and twins I watched since spring, the youngsters frisky and at play, at home in their known woodland world.
"God comes to us disguised as our life." (Paula D'Arcy) Does a thing, an idea, an element of reality, cease to exist if we don't believe, don't recognize or know, don't understand? Or does all the world simply continue to exist in its forever changing natural ways, as we humans go about our serious silliness?
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