Kinds of Honey

I nearly hit a deer this morning. A half-grown fawn darted across the road, in front of the traffic in the other lane, and then skittered in front of my truck. I stomped on the brakes and somehow, miraculously, did not collide with the deer – though by inches. Also miraculously, the frittata I had made that morning, sitting in the seat next to me, did not slide onto the floor. The fawn found her way into the ditch and I drove on, my heart pounding so heavily my chest that I started laughing.

Earlier this week an eagle swooped up from the side of the road and right in front of my windshield. He had something in his talons, though I couldn’t tell what, and if I hadn’t braked quickly I would have had an eagle in the cab with me. What oddly inappropriate moments to see wildlife closer than I ever have before: when my man-made machine nearly causes their death, and not for any good or natural purpose.

I am not sure what to do with these encounters, other than be glad for wild nature and, at the same time, glad for the fact that I avoided disaster in my nearness to it.