Fawn in tall grass

We were burning a bonfire pile yesterday evening when the wind shifted.  This, combined with the constant chatter from my husband and brothers-in-law, made me seek higher ground.  I was walking slowly up the Wedding Hill when I saw a fawn in the high grass at my feet.  It didn't move, just looked up at me in mild curiosity.

Being who I am, I assumed the worst: its mother was killed, it was itself injured, it had been born with no legs (I must say in my defense that I realized almost immediately the extreme unlikelihood of the last).  I called to the guys, but only Tua came up.  Seeing that I'd worked myself into a state of shock (I was telling him shrilly Not to Touch the Fawn!), he told me to sit down and keep the fawn company.

I tried to calm myself with the Jesus prayer, so the fawn wouldn't pick up on my uneasiness.  Then I thought she was probably getting bored with the Jesus prayer, so I sang All Things Bright and Beautiful, which we'd sung in church that morning.  She laid her head down and went to sleep.  Tua came back soon having called the Game Warden, who said that the mother could be off foraging, or was scared off by our bonfire and would come back later.  Does leave their fawns to their best defenses: scentlessness, near-invisibility in tall grass, and their predilection for immobility.  I was satisfied that I didn't need to keep watch anymore.

Seeing her was like seeing God.