I Saw Five Deer

And it spurred a song

This morning, in the front yard pre-dawn darkness, while our aging Welsh Corgi carried out her post-sleep constitutional, I started humming that metaphorically preposterous Christmas Carol, “I Saw Three Ships.” I’ve always liked the old song, though one shouldn’t pay close attention to the lyrics. Three ships sailing into famously landlocked Bethlehem is curious enough, but making sense of the eponymous three ships requires a poetic gymnastics beyond my aesthetic sensibilities. And not just mine. Do the three ships represent the magi with their famous gift trove seeking out the Christ child? Or are the ships some Christologically bizarre reference to the holy Trinity? Google it for yourself. No one seems to know. For all anybody knows, it could have simply been a jaunty sea song that for some now-forgotten reason got bent toward Christmas. One of those, “It seemed like the thing to do at the time” situations. Regardless, it’s a winsome song, whatever it might be about.

Christmas, of course, is well into the rearview mirror at this point in late January, but there I was, standing in the front yard wearing my housecoat and parka in the sub-zero darkness, humming it. “I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas Day in the morning.” What had prompted the tune? Nia, having suspended her search for the perfect squat spot, was motionless and aimed like a pointer off to the east. Curious, and more than a little impatient to finish this business and retreat indoors, I turned to face in her interested direction to see what intrigued her. I saw nothing at first, but as my eyes gradually adjusted, I detected a moving shape. And then another.

Our new home is flanked on the side and back by an acre of protected wetland. The small corner of the natural world has made the shift from the country to the city a bit softer of a landing. As the seasons progress, I look forward to noticing what all might find habitat among the grasses, the pond, and the spongy land. This morning those moving shapes were deer - five in all - who had spent the night enveloped in the marsh, “safe and secure from all alarm” as another old hymn once put it. And here they were, emerging under the cover of darkness to move on to wherever they spend their days; perhaps to return again here for the comfort of another night.

One of the elements I loved about living at Taproot Garden was the sense of partnership with creation - feeding and being fed; cultivating and being cultivated; protecting and being simultaneously sheltered. We were a safe habitat that supported life - unless, of course, you happened to be a raccoon with a taste for chicken, in which case all bets were off. Rabbits flourished, deer bedded down, birds populated the trees, coyotes roamed and bobcats prowled. On our last morning there an owl perched on the garden fence to bless our journey. It was a good and habitable place, and it is pleasing to see that our new place for putting down roots continues that blessing. Safe habitat. Comfort and welcome. Safety amid the precarity.

It has been a rough time in the Minneapolis area throughout these weeks since arriving. Raids. Arrests. Protests. Deaths in the streets. All supposedly sparked by the presence of immigrants. Allegedly “illegal” immigrants, but the facts betray a wider net that has trapped almost anyone, citizen or not, visitors with papers, or not. Even natural born citizens whose simple appearance has run them afoul of the military sweeps. A little safe habitat would come in handy about now.

As the five deer made their way gracefully out of our marsh, into the dark beyond, I wondered how this intention toward safe haven and hospitable habitat might become contagious once more, and effectual. What would it look like, and what gifts might be nurtured and let loose in the bargain? When people come to feel safe. And rested. And somehow holy.

One thing is for sure, that the old carol got right: that should it happen - once it happens:

And all the angels in Heaven shall sing

On Christmas day, on Christmas day

And all the angels in Heaven shall sing

On Christmas day in the morning

On Christmas Day, yes, but also this one, too.