On a typical day I’ll walk down a path through a patch of trees called the Arboretum. It’s not a particularly large patch of trees, but it is quite lovely and peaceful on most days. Yesterday was a day like any other. I set off down to the path to get to my destination, as always. Once achieving what I had set out to do, of course, I headed back to my apartment, once again, down the path.

The sun had set and dusk was settling in. The light was enough that I could find my way fairly easily, and even spotted snake trails and birds building their nests in prepertation for spring.I also spotted deer. This was not a very unusual occurance for me, having lived in Southern Maryland for most of my life. Though, I have to say, most of the times I have spotted deer previously were either on the side of the road after being hit by a car, or their butt as they run away in a hurry.

This time I was different. This time I was practicing silent walking, a wonderful technique to hone down, or a fun one to know if you happen to be a practical joker. The rustle that I heard on the path startled me, as seeing other people come down this way is a rarity. As it happens, it was not a person or people causing the noise. A deer hopped across the path, stopped as if sensing something, and then looked my way. Following quickly, two other smaller deer came into sight. I stood there, shaking from shock I will admit, staring, facsinated. I moved slightly towards them, one deer bounded away, another moved a little bit further into the wood. The third stayed still as I moved closer, eventually becoming only a few feet away, the closest I had ever really been to a wild animal. I stopped, not wanting to frighten her off. For a period of a few minutes, I couldn’t be sure of the exact time, we stood, staring into one another’s eyes. Have you ever been close enough to stare into a deer’s eyes? I will tell you, it’s an awing experience. I began to wonder if either of us would ever move, so I decided to take the first step. Sure enough, with that step, she bounded off into the woods, following her companions, dissapearing from sight within seconds.

I could not really say why this experience affected me on such a deep level. Was it because she wasn’t afraid of me? Maybe it was because I stared at a potential food source in the eyes (something I didn’t consider until I was already back at my apartment), or perhaps it was the pureness of it. Those deer live in a very small patch of woods. Very often their tracks will be evident, yet the deer themselves will be very well hidden. If a group of deer can live peacefully in a rather small area without being seen, couldn’t we do the same? Would we be able to dissapear from sight within the safety of the woods in seconds as the deer did? I tend to believe so.

I walked on, finishing walking the path in the woods, and then walked on back to my apartment. There, I sat, remembered, and cried. It may seem silly to cry over something like this, yet I did anyway. Why? Out of all experiences in recent memory that I have had, this one was without a doubt the most moving, the most real.