Oh my great people, I have gone Native. Henceforth, I shall be called She-Who-Spots-Deer-Standing-Near-Highway-Onramp-at-Midnight.
Not just one midnight, but now two midnights in a row. Last night, at the Bourne Rotary, after a Stage Door Canteen gig. Tonight, on the onramp to I-95 exit 13B in Canton, after a session at the Irish Cultural Center.
Of course, I did the only logical thing one does when one spots a deer standing by the side of the road at midnight. I called a friend.
Not just any friend, mind you. I called the Great Rudini, a musician, unmarried, and likely to be wide awake at midnight. He was awake, as it turns out, and my call interrupted him while he was photographing his friend's cat and saving it as the wallpaper on her phone. (I'm quite sure that there is no cause/effect relationship between these last two conditions.)
The Great Rudini is a college buddy, a dear friend, and for nearly fifteen years now, we have played together in a band called Einstein's Little Homunculus, a Celtic/Klezmer concatenation that specializes in children's songs for grown-ups. ("Daddy, what does Kooky Floozy mean?") In the band's heyday, we traveled together all over the folkin' place en route to coffeehouses and contra dances, and it was on these journeys in the Great Rudini's old Volvo wagon that I earned the nickname "Secretary of the Interior," for my great skill in spotting roadside wildlife attractions. Deer, moose, foxes, groundhog, beaver, hawks... if they were there, I saw them. And pointed it out.
Tonight, the Great Rudini was mildly impressed with my consecutive sightings, and asked me only one favor: If I should ever—"God forbid"—strike a deer with my car, please call him immediately. "There's good eatin' in them deer," he said.
On my mysterious roadside doe, however, he had no sage observation. Oh Great People of Blog Spirit, how can it be that I saw the same deer in two places, miles away from each other, on two consecutive nights? Both at midnight? It can only be one of three things:
1) Mother Earth is sending me an important message.
2) Deer act suspiciously as summer solstice nears.
3) I'm way super extra wicked overtired. There was no deer.
Should you have any insight on this matter, I implore you to write your thoughts on the back of a peyote root and send it to me at my home address. I shall await your message.
In the meantime, I shall sit here drinking tea with jam and bread....which, I have on very good authority, will bring us back to Doe.
For further insight on Native American deer symbolism, do visit the highly scientific, peer reviewed, and academic Web site of extensive international acclaim, www.whats-your-sign.com. Actually, do. I think I know the deer of which she speaks.