the_deer bijou I used to be afraid of the animals in my parent's backyard. the foxes made horrible cries at night, stirring the cat from her place on the couch or the bed to beg to be let out to chase them away. there is a thin strip of woods only 15 yards wide but miles long that separates our yard from the neighborhoods up the hill behind us. the deer use that strip as a highway to travel through our town unseen, but the noises they make in the dead leaves chill my blood. sounds that are old, and sacred, are they all knowing or just oblivious? breathing, blood moving under fur, magical, following what's left to smell of the earth. the open spaces in this town are dwindling in favor of luxury housing communities and strip malls. now I'm walking through the yard to sneak in the basement on one of my last nights in this town. it still feels surreal and smells like soil and fog and I can hear something moving in the leaves up the hill. 041229 what's it to you? who go blather from