Playing

I took a walk in Burns, Oregon the other afternoon. It was cold, about 28 degrees F., too cold to stay out long. I walked down the street, around the corner towards a baseball field. The baseball field showed signs of winter, the trees around it were bare, the grass stiff and light. In the field I saw 5 deer, not an unusual sight in Burns. What was unusual about these deer however, was what they were doing. The deer were playing.

I've seen a lot of deer in my lifetime having grown up in the country. Most of the deer I have seen have been along the side of the road, waiting for my car to rush by. Some have been silently eating in our family's field, coming out in the cover of darkness. All the deer I have seen in the past have had one thing in common, they were scared. Scared of my presence, scared of what I might do. These deer, the deer playing in the baseball field were not scared. They were having a blast. One of them would pretend to charge at another, then they would jump around, heads low, a distinctive spring in every step. I just broke out in laughter watching them, I could not help myself. I think the deers actions were unusual for the inhabitants of Burns also because the cars which had been rushing by began slowing down, some pulling into the parking lot to watch the scene. It was great...

Soon, the deer tired of playing in the field and one took off, the others following, like they were playing a game of tag. They came right at me, and then, seeing me for probably the first time, they took off into the hills behind the field. I felt guilty for breaking up their fun, fun I had never seen before, and would never forget. There was something about the simple play I witnessed. Something innocent and pure, something that has slowly leaked out of my life.

My wife has been trying to get me to do something just for fun lately. It's been hard to figure out what I could do. I mean, if I go snowboarding, I might break a leg, and then there's the expense. I don't have a lot of time while at home, so I hate taking any of it to do something just for me. And yet, the absence of play is taking its toll. I can feel it. When life is spent on nothing but productive pursuits, it quickly becomes bland, stale, old. So seeing those deer play really made me yearn for fun. I remembered being a kid, running around with abandone. Maybe it's not possible to completely recapture those younger days, but I think I need to be a little more "deer like" in life; jump around, ignoring the possible dangers, rushing at the enemy...every once in awhile.