As I pulled out of the garage and backed down the driveway, our sweet neighbors had two Sunday morning girls munching their sod. When the girls spotted me photographing them, they raised their heads, and cocked their ears. Their black eyes focused upon me, and their legs swelled readiness.

They are familiar deer, so they did not bolt. They watched me back the car down the drive. At the bottom, I put the gear shifter into ‘D’ from ‘R’ and ascended the hill.

Pretty ones, I’ll not harm you.

The rains have fallen much over the last three days, and we are grateful. The grasses are greening again, the leaves on the hardwoods deep-green from the lightning and nitrogen. You can hear the creeks running across the road and also behind the house.

The fawns will appear on this Spring stage soon–in their spots and frantic energy and skinny shaking legs, close to their moms, shaking with youthful energy, thirsting for summer’s lushness. And their sundry thirsts–those hundreds and thousands of creatures’ thirsts–will be slaked.

And 100% of it will be via the hand of providence. 100%.