They reappeared this morning. Two does grazing in the field, just along the pines. Their long necks stretched out in the high grasses, their shaggy red flanks predicting winter. I hadn't spotted them all summer and wondered where the fawns of early spring had gone. But they came back to this copse of pines next to our apartment building, maybe remembering home.

I ran for the camera and when I returned, only one deer remained, leisurely grazing and then moving back under the pine trees, her long white tail flicking and then hidden from view. How I fill my days with structure, deadlines, commitments. My writing continues. The seasons turn. Winter comes. And in the spring, just maybe, new life.