The night the lights went out
(Or didn’t)

 

Had to run an errand the other night. It was at that point in the day where night had arrived and the sun had set, but there was still just enough light out that it wasn’t all headlights and darkness.

Most of the roads around our home run against fields. Mainly corn fields. And in the winter months they attract all sorts of visitors, such as deer, turkeys and geese.

On this particular evening, I happened to see about two dozen deer off to my right, so I began to slow down a bit since history has brought about a very good lesson for caution: Where you see one deer, expect two.

Sure enough, as I was slowing down, I saw it. About a third of the way onto the road, a deer heading across and toward my lane. I swerved over about four feet, and it turned out to be just about the perfect distance. I’m fairly certain if my window was rolled down, I could have placed a mint into the deer’s mouth as I passed.

On the way back home, I drove along the same road, and I lost count of the deer in the field because I was mainly watching the road and trying to bulk count quickly when I could. I reached forty-five when a few of them moved a bit and melted together in the darkness.

It isn’t a rare sight to see deer in the fading evening light. But it isn’t common to see these numbers. And yet friends of mine have said that as far as hunting season is concerned, the deer have been really well hidden. (A couple of friends seem to think this is a result of a lot more hunting licenses being granted this winter, meaning more people out and about and scaring the deer. I’m not a hunter, so can only interpret the basics, but I get the thought.)

The really funny thing is, all I need to do is look out my window. There are far more deer tracks across my lawn in the past two weeks. So why are they in the fields but not the woods? I think we’re all still basically locked into our houses more than previous years. And, of course we are. Thing is, I’m starting with deer, but want to mention Christmas lights.

All over the streets near where I live, the Christmas lights are still on. Not just one or two houses. Dozens of them. One thing did strike me though. It was only Christmas lights outside. No trees inside. No inflatable characters on the lawn. Just the lights.

Normally I’d chuckle at Christmas lights illuminated with January closing in on its midpoint. But there’s something remarkable about it this year. Something interesting. I just don’t know what to think about it.

I was reading an article tonight about the last two northern white rhinoceroses. Just two. Both female. Story is sad, but here’s a little twist for you… they don’t know they’re the last two. They live each day doing rhino things, oblivious to the fact that they are the only two remaining.

There are certain days when I want to take in some significant meaning from a large gathering of deer in a corn field, or from a large number of houses still decked out in Christmas cheer. But without talking to those turning the lights on each evening (or, I suppose, talking to the deer), I can only make basic guesses and interpretations.

Maybe the rhinos have it right… there isn’t much reason to figure out what everyone else is doing or why. Enjoy a morning scratch and just be a rhino.

Make of that what you will.

 

If you have any comments or questions, please e-mail me at Bob@inmybackpack.com