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RETIRED & BUCK NAKED ON THE BACK PORCH
Mother Nature's March	Jo Middleton
March 2010 RETIRED & BUCK NAKED ON THE BACK PORCH By Jo Middleton Mother Nature’s March Get out the walking shoes, March is here and with it comes the first little shoots of flowers and such sundry planted foods as soy -- much beloved by deer. The Bambi’s around here, however, much as they love soy planted by some to entice them, have learned to stay clear of the country and have become urbanites, where the nibbles are many and hunters are few. You can frequently see them going up University Avenue toward Alice’s Beauty Shop and then to the public library where they visit Atticus and Scout, the library cats. Their coats are brown-black, a harbinger of bitterly cold winter, the outdoor boys around here tell me. Though those fine-figured Girls pass by the beauty parlor to show southern belles gathered beneath dryers, dyes, and snips what real beauty of the leaves and berries persuasion look like, their favorite hangout is a subdivision grandiloquently named Grand Oaks, where the grandees plant expensively, and the girls and their antlered consorts eat expansively. Houses of more modest means outside the Grand used to put those resin doe lawn ornaments under the trees by their bungalows, but no more. The real deal now reside there, along with various mixed- breed dawgs who consider them part of the family. Not all the antlered fellows have gotten by unharmed, however. The other day I saw a country-boy version of Dudley Moore’s “Arthur,” in a pick-up truck. He apparently was moving his worldly possessions, all of which were crammed beside him in his Ford F-150. He had so much stuff crammed into that truck that he was squashed against the door window, sitting at a stoplight eating his burger delight. Displayed prominently among his treasures, mostly jeans and tee-shirts, was that which used to reside on a buck’s head, a six-point rack. This boy might be leaving his live-in girl, but not his trophy antlers. The trees in March begin to get that pale green canopy of tiny furled leaves. But whether the trees are adorned, or their architecture is still wintry bare and beautiful, the deer run between the trunks and branches and disappear. No matter what the undergrowth may be, the girls and their antlered partners know how to navigate the forests. It’s as though the trees move aside for them, giving them safe passage. If they stop to watch you, you have to stare hard, as if you are looking at a child’s hidden picture. My Colorado friend, Lelija, (yes, she’s beautifully Lithuanian) paints scenes like that, except hers are aspens and the deer are moose. Those multi-textured paintings are as amazing as Ansel Adams photos, for both artists’ genius melts into their media, allowing nature to flow from their souls. Talent like that is in the marrow, and happens only when depicting Nature. Incredibly, it becomes a substitute for the real thing. Wonder-full March. Extraordinary Deer or Aspens. Great to be alive, retired, and buck-naked on the back porch. Jo Middleton does not display antlers on the wall in her den; she prefers shooting with a camera.
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Jo Middleton does not display antlers on the wall in her den; she prefers shooting with a camera.