Submitted by Bruce Andrew Peters
Just an hour after this doe brought her newborn by, a hellish storm rolled into the Blue Ridge Mountains. The cold front declared war on the moisture-saturated stationary front from the coast and rumbled like kettle drums punctuated with cannon fire.
In my flying days, I had been tossed about in gust fronts that had made trees dance and snap below, and threw us so wildly that a steady approach and smooth landing seemed inconceivable. We guided the aircraft in more or less the right direction, while coaxing her a little here and there as we bounced uncontrollably in the wild winds: left, right, up, down over and over in no particular order. Periodically, we'd tighten the seat belts as turbulence often would loosen the belts so much we could be thrown from the open cockpit. The only time the wings had to be level and the descent smooth was when we got close to the runway.
So, I know first hand what it is like to be IN a storm, just like my wildlife friends have no choice but to do. Storms are better left seen from the living room window. Wildlife has to endure: snow, freezing rain, extreme heat, sub-zero weather, parasites, disease and thunderstorms. With a lot of luck, animals like deer produce some young and live for a few years before forces out of their control end their difficult lives. Deer have my respect.
Now, the newborn is being introduced to the world with terrifying sounds - all the more so with their sensitive hearing, gusting winds, brilliant flashes of light and chilling rains. I hope that they found a safe shelter and the morning light brings a new outlook for what the world holds.
On this Memorial Day weekend, please remember those who have served and given so much (on so many levels) for their country.