Boomer musings.... and other oddities

In May, people chattered on and on about how beautiful the weather has been, and I observed smiles pasted goofily on the faces of neighbors walking dogs, shoppers, grocery store clerks and postal workers.  I am definitely not one to disagree with the emotion surrounding the warmth of the sun, the smell of the leaves unfurling on the trees, and the cacophony of pinks and fuchsias bursting from the boughs of weeping cherry, crab apple and Rose of Sharon trees.  We all went through a torturous winter and it had taken its toll on most to the point that it was the main topic of conversation for the better part of the month.  I noticed an ever-so-slight skip in the step of those around me going about their daily chores, feeding lawns, pulling out bushes murdered by the frigid temperatures and planting petunias and pansies.  Ah spring!!

Ginger is fed (15 seconds flat this morning) and she lets me know it's time to walk.  She's learned to sit (albeit with the nervous quiver of one impatient for a bathroom break) to allow me to fasten her harness and we're off.  Hello's, banalities and pleasantries are exchanged with neighbors as 9:30 AM rolls around and my leisurely morning routine continues out doors. To my amazement, spring's rebirth brought another birth which Ginger and I encountered along the sidewalk earlier this month. 

The newborn fawn was perfectly still when we came upon it and at first I was afraid it wasn't alive, being that it was in such an odd place, along side the sidewalk off a busy street.  As I would read later, fawns instinctively freeze when they sense danger which was exactly what she was doing, breathing slowly and not moving a muscle.  Ginger was oblivious but I was halted in my tracks, my first reaction being "what do I do???"  I felt I couldn't just continue on my way and ignore it nor could I pick it up and place it somewhere safe. I'd been told that a doe would abandon her fawn if she smells a human scent on it.  I would again read later that this is not true, and that she would simply lick the scent off  and move her baby to a safer location. 
A fit and trim female jogger approached and we stood discussing what to do.  Her first thought was whether or not to let nature take its course, and allow it to be food for a coyote. (huh?)  She then proceeded to tell me how she witnessed one attack an animal on her front lawn and felt that sometimes we, as humans, must accept nature's ways, and detach ourselves emotionally,  all the while snapping pictures with her iphone.  A sanitation man stopped by and seeing that the fawn was alive and well, placed two orange cones beside it.  We thanked him and she continued on about her love for animals, her dog (and all the dogs she's had in the past) her pet birds flying around the playroom of her house, their names and individual personalities (she seemed prone to go off topic and free associate) and finally, a proclamation of her belief in god (and disappointment that I did not). At the point that she began suggesting reading material for me, I politely told her Ginger was itching to continue on our walk and we parted ways. Happily, as we headed back home, I spotted mama doe peering from the woods a short distance behind where she left her baby and

I felt relieved, knowing she was still watching over her fawn and would return.  After giving birth, a doe will go off to feed, drink, and rest, so she can return hours later to feed her baby. Why she left it in plain sight in an area busy with cars and people passing by, I'll never know.  I checked on the baby every half hour that day, put up a sign telling passers by that it was OK , mama was close by and would be back for it. When I returned for the last time at about 4 in the afternoon, it was gone and I knew nature had taken its course in a way
that I could, as a human, remain emotionally attached as is my own nature.  
PS.....two days later, mama and baby were spotted walking in the woods along a stream...and all is as it should be.