Longleaf Stories

full circle in the hundred acre wood

Late afternoon shards of sunlight shot like Robin Hood arrows into the dark fern-lined pool of the stream bed, illuminating a gift as I glided past.

A tiny spotted fawn, standing fragile ankle-deep in the spring-fed water, only an overhanging tree limb and some eight feet separating us.

I froze. So did she.

“Hello baby,” I said softly.

Lowering her head slightly, so our eyes could meet, we drank in the seldom encountered otherness.

A nearby rustle. Mother was getting impatient.

“Okay, baby. I’m going on, now. God go with you in your short life.”

Sitting around a table in someone’s lovely home last night, eight human adults seemingly all talking at once, I had trouble maintaining focus and being present with them.

Speak. Leave a memory.

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