Botannical

Thirst

Norman Returns

For those of you who read about the nearly disastrous experience of Norman the fawn in our waterfall pond, here is a happy postscript. Having not seen Norman since Tuesday, we were not sure that he made it. We got a happy surprise last evening when he appeared at our donkey trough with his mom, seemingly no worse for his experience. Welcome back Norman!

Norman and the Waterfall

We think this is Norman, from yesterday.

I usually wake early, so I was up first this morning watching television when I heard my husband George open the front door and go out into the yard. When he opened the door to the garden room where I was, I knew as soon as I saw his face it was bad. He said, “The fawn is in the pond.” The “pond” is a waterfall with a fish pond that we built each other for our 25th wedding anniversary. We live in rural Texas, behind pipe and cable fencing. You can’t even see there is a pond or waterfall unless you look at it from our house.

waterfall pond before the fawn

It holds a thousand gallons of water and when my husband stands in the pond, which we only do to clean it, it hits him about hip high. In the fifteen years we’ve had the pond, countless animals have drunk from it, deer, squirrels, birds, raccoons, dogs, cats and God knows what else. Nothing has ever drown in that pond.

My heart sank. “Has it drown?”, I asked. We’d only seen this fawn for the first time yesterday when his mother brought him up to our donkey trough. “No, but we’ll have to get him out, the sides are too steep and he’s not strong enough to drag himself out.” Of course I didn’t take time to get my camera, but when I walked out I roughly saw the scene in City Slickers when the calf  named Norman starts to drown in the river and Billy Crystal saves him.

My husband was talking softly to the little guy as I came out of the house; George said he had swum right over to him when he got there. He had his head up on the ledge of the pond, looking at him as if to say, “Can you please get me out of here?” The fawn was obviously exhausted; no telling how long he had been in there struggling. George put one leg in the pond and looked at me. “I’m going to hand him out to you. You think you can hold him and put him in the grass?” Adrenalin is an amazing thing. My first thought was how lucky I was to be married to this man who was about to grab this thrashing little deer in the middle of a thousand gallons of water to save it. “Yes!”, I said. I think I could have thrown a refrigerator at that point. By the way, to add to the drama of this scene, the mother doe was across the driveway in another pasture, frantically pacing back and forth, but too scared to come any closer.

In one swift motion, he lifted the struggling fawn to me and I scurried over to the nearest tree and set it gently down in the grass. I will never forget the sound it made as George handed it to me. If you’ve heard any baby cry for its mom, it’s pretty darn close. Surprisingly enough the fawn could stand. I let him go and he stood there shivering. Now mom was nowhere to be seen.

We looked at each other. “Now what?” We decided quickly to leave him alone and go in the house to see if the mother would get him. It was hard to leave him there. Several phone calls to our sweet neighbors whose son works at a deer reserve to see if we were doing the right thing. “Yes, leave it alone, don’t touch it, the mom will come back.” The fawn lay down under the tree and started cleaning itself.

The morning progressed with us peeking through the closed blinds for over an hour, to see if the fawn was still there. Finally, about an hour and a half later, he was gone. The lilies in the fish pond look like they’ve been in a veg-o-matic.

post-fawn waterfall pond

But no matter. The goldfish are swimming around through the shredded vegetation thinking…”What just happened?”

Later that morning….after I’d taken my blood pressure medicine and we were sitting on the front porch drinking tea my husband said, ” I hope we see Norman again.” “Me too.” He’s named him. Good sign for that little guy, I bet he’s got one whopper of a story to tell his friends.

Fawn

And just like that..this morning’s doe brings her fawn up for the first time…..

Texas heat, no problem.

Texas heat, no problem.

I think my foot has melted to the birdbath.

When you start turning red…time for a bath.

The Quiet Time

For a moment the earth’s breath is soft,
Warm on my cheek, scented with apple wood and hay.

Grass tops touch nodding heads together in autumn prayer.

Vanishing moments of gold whisper soft, brown feathers open.

 

 

The quiet time flows across the valley.

Blood red weeps against the gold and green of fall.

Fall Glow

Glow

Something about the light changes in Texas in October. The air seems fresher to breathe. Rain seems to enhance the glow.

Feeding Routine

 

This soft October day was about our feeding routine. How is it that the animals always seem to eat before we do? Guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

First Poco anticipates the arrival of his hay……

Finally….

Then, the girls, Perdita and Holly…..

 

Then K.J. and Ferdinand the cat……

K.J. gets his feed first while Ferdinand assists.

Finally Indy gets his munchies…….

It’s been a great day and a gorgeous sunset is accented by a moonflower display….

 

Hummingbird Moth

One of the great things about our Moonflower vine this fall is that it attracts huge hummingbird moths. They are hard to catch, but I managed to get one shot of a visitor this weekend in our Weatherford, Texas garden

Hummingbird moth at dusk.

This cool weather has caused the bloom to increase.

Such gorgeous flowers.

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