A doe, a deer

4.00 a.m.
A doe and her deer cock their heads and their eyes widen. Their two
sets of ears simultaneously swivel left, downhill and downwind, towards
the brash sounds. They wait cautiously, muscles tensed for flight.
Though nearly tame in this heavily maintained environment they are not
so humanized that the smell of blood does not reach that ancient kernel
of brain that causes fear. The smell is still unfamiliar to them so
they move warily away and settle down.

6.30 a.m.
I am unable to sleep. My breathing is shallow and wheezy, unused to the
pollen-saturated air of the pine forest. Each breath feels as if the
interior of my lungs is being stripped of its spongy lining and my back
itches furiously. I sit up in bed painfully and notice that you are not
beside me. I listen for sounds to indicate your presence in the
bathroom and kitchen but the condo is silent. This is not a surprise;
you like to rise early when we're here. I ease out of bed to make
myself a coffee and breakfast. Breakfast is a banana; I find they help
to clear my lungs. After 10 minutes I feel more human.

6.50 a.m.
You have not returned from your wandering so I decide (as I am now
fully awake and my lungs have cleared) to take a ride along the trails.
Stepping outside a smile of recognition flits across my face. Your bike
is missing from the stand; you have gone for a ride also. How natural
it is for you to get out so early for you were never one to mix much
with people. After nine o'clock, once the families of four have risen
and the terminally fit are out, the forest becomes a torment for you.
You feel cheap from the contact with strangers, how delicate are your
graces. I pedal off.

9.15 a.m.
The woman is holding my arm, not roughly, but enough to keep me in her
grasp. I am staring uphill beyond the bike, your bike, that's collapsed
underneath a tree. Uphill there is activity. Plastic strips of red and
white stripes have fenced off a wide area. Within that men and women in
yellow fluorescent coats are moving around with urgency. They seem to
be searching the ground. I stare. I know this place.