Deer on Municipal – Photo: L. Weikel

Go Gently

I think it’s safe to say we’re entering uncharted territory. The next few days are going to herald unprecedented numbers of horrific circumstances that no one believed could or would happen here in the U.S. (We need to go gently.)

Weeks ago, we heard the stories and read the articles and twitter posts by people in Italy, and even though we comprehended the dire warnings intellectually, I think there was a deeply buried adamant belief that it will not happen here. Indeed, I think we’re still telling ourselves that. (We need to go gently.)

Only now, it’s cities, counties, and states across the nation that are telling themselves, “What’s happening in New York is unique to New York. It won’t happen to us.” (We need to go gently.)

A lot of us are realizing that the warnings and alarms about the depth of this crisis were not and are not overstated. We are right to be honoring our governors’ “stay-at-home” orders, exercising wisdom and compassion by isolating ourselves from anyone and everyone, including those we love the most – especially if we don’t live with them or they are in a high risk group. (We need to go gently.)

What’s the Message?

On Monday, Karl, Sheila, Spartacus, and I were trudging up the steep hill that eventually meanders through a horse farm, when I happened to glance into the woods to my right. Standing right there, looking right into my eyes, was a doe. She stood stock still, her eyes looking right into mine.

She did not move. Quite honestly, she did not give off any semblance of anxiety or stress upon knowing for sure she’d been seen. Mind you – this sanquine attitude was conveyed in spite of the fact that we were walking with two dogs.

“Hey Baby! What’s your message?” I cooed to her as I handed Sheila’s leash to Karl and fished my iPhone out of my pocket. “May I take your photo?”

She quietly obliged, even permitting me to take a couple shots from other angles as we continued to slowly climb up the hill, stopping every couple of steps to gain a different perspective and slant on the sun behind her.

“Go gently,” she said. “Risks are everywhere – for you and for me. In the end, the way you walk through these challenges will be the message you send. Remember: all that’s important is love.”

All that’s important is love – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-611)