This morning, I happened to glance out my window and saw a small group of youngsters out playing behind my house. They looked a little young to be out unsupervised, but it looked like one of the group was a bit older and bigger, so they were probably fine. They seemed to be having a grand time of it, under the pine trees behind our fence. The trees back there are young, so their branches start maybe 3 or 4 feet up off the ground. It makes a great spot for hiding and running around, kind of like a big tent. They were chasing each other, and then they’d stop for breath or scheming or whatever groups of little ones do at that age when they’re playing, and then they’d chase each other around the trees some more. One was smaller than the others, but the rest of the group always waited up for him. It’s fun to watch the interaction at that age — affection is shown alternately by love and hostility — and these little ones were no exception, cuddling up in one moment, and then kicking and biting the next. Eventually they ran off, and the games moved on to the apple tree or the bigger pines or wherever their imaginations took them.

If ever we move from this house, I will miss watching the deer out back in the quiet of the day.

5 thoughts on “Playing

  1. Oh YOU. YOU are the tricky one. You with your clever literary way. I did not REALIZE that you were talking about deer until the VERY end!

  2. Yes, it is TRUE. Also, in journalism circles, I think that’s what’s called “burying the lead”.

    Well whatever. The little deer were so very CUTE, and really, that is the point.

  3. You’re both missing the point. How old does a deer have to be to go out unsupervised?

    Oh, and I’m an idiot who thought the comment about the deer was simply a non sequitor.

  4. Well, it looks like that literature degree came in handy after all!

    Now I know how my professor felt looking at a class full of frosh studying Wordsworth. *cue crickets*

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