Grammar Punk Blog

I may have mentioned that I walk in a cemetery. Or maybe not. I do. I walk for exercise in our local cemetery which sits atop a hill some five or six blocks from my house. It’s a nice cemetery, as cemeteries go with lots of nice walking paths and, as you can imagine, it’s quiet. Of course I’m not the only one who finds this a nice place to take my daily exercise so it’s a lot of nodding and smiling and good mornings all around.  Fairly non-scintillating. Most days.

So, there we are—my Mom’s with me this day—and I see something out of the corner of my eye. Did I mention there are assorted critters that come along with their owners of the canine variety? Therefore, I thought I was seeing a dog loping across the cemetery—a decidedly odd-looking dog.

Deer! A whole tiny family of deer! In my cemetery! A lovely little doe and two amazing little fauns that couldn’t have stood more than three feet tall. Twins! And standing no more than twenty feet away from us!

Having seen them before my mom, I grab her arm and hiss at her to freeze! So, there we stand, frozen in place as our the little fur family. Mama Deer is staring right at us, her little tail twitching madly, ears pointed and rotating like wee little radar dishes. The two fauns also freeze a few feet behind her, standing so close together they look velcroed. We all stood there staring at each other for a least a minute before Mama decided we were harmless and went on her way.

Now another thing about this cemetery is that it is parallel to a rather busy three lane road. Across from this road is a very overgrown section of hill leading to a small valley that looks like a wee little wilderness. We knew this was her ultimate destination—what she was doing in the cemetery we’ll never know—and this is where the heart attack part comes in. I may have heretofore mentioned that I am a total animal lover. Big time. Therefore, the idea of standing there watching this little family flattened by several cars at once was about to kill me. Literally. Yet as we watched, this incredibly savvy Mom stopped at the entrance to the cemetery—having aimed right for it unerringly, and I swear, looked both ways and started across. And just as astonishing, we watched the vehicles coming both ways ease to a stop—no screeching brakes or chaos, just seeming to be in sync and the three of them were gracefully across this very busy road and disappeared into the trees in a split second.

And I remembered how to breathe again. And tried to get my heart rate back to a normal level as I leaned on a convenient headstone. I will never forget that precious glimpse into an everyday jaunt for that little family. I’d just appreciate it if they didn’t visit again.