Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
A doe and her spotted fawn make their rounds daily behind my house. They start out beneath the apple tree on the west side, skirt around my fenced backyard, jump over a low stack of firewood, and end up under the pear tree on the east side.
On Friday, a yearling approached them—bigger than the fawn, smaller than the doe. I’ve seen it before, always alone.
In a flash, the doe turned on the yearling and chased it off into the sagebrush hedge at the back of my property. It stood there by itself for a while, forlorn, looking around. Once more it approached the doe, and again, she chased the yearling away. Sternly. Nothing soft or “doe-eyed” about it.
My guess is that yearling is the doe’s baby from last year. “Time to move on,” Mama insists. “You’re not hanging around with me.”
Heartless? Not at all. Forced emancipation is often the way of wild animals. They nurture, teach, and defend their young ones. But offspring old enough to fend for themselves are out of the nest. For good.
It is a difficult transition.
August is a transitional month, not only for wild animals but for people as well.
During August in the northern hemisphere, we:
Squeeze in last-minute vacations.
Jump from summer to fall as a new school year begins.
Lose an hour of daylight. Toward the end of the month, the sun rises roughly thirty minutes later than it did August 1 and sets about thirty minutes earlier.
When September walks in the front door, we ask, “How’d you get here?”
A clever person once said, “The only people who like change are wet babies.” Sometimes change is slow and methodical. Predictable. Sometimes it happens so quickly we wonder why we didn’t see it coming.
Change isn’t easy unless we’re leaving discomfort and getting into a better situation, but that isn’t always the case. We’re often getting into more work.
August is nothing but change, and new things are coming. However, we can find security in the God who flung the stars into space and spins the earth through its seasons. He never changes.
And He’s right here with us, helping us every step of the way.
is the same
~Change isn't easy. Click To Tweet
“I’m going to see Aunt Bertie and Uncle Ernest,” Mary said.
Lewis looked up with a tolerant expression, as if discussing the matter with a child. “And when are you planning to leave?”
His fork clanked against Mama’s china when it fell. He stared at her, his mouth open like a Pennsylvania brook trout.
Building steam, Mary continued. “I’ve already made arrangements so you needn’t worry about a thing. My departure will not interfere in any way with the milking schedule. I’ll have dinner in the oven for you, so you shouldn’t have to cook for a few days. I’ve also made fresh bread.”
His face reddened, and he pushed his plate away. “Is Celia Griffith in on this?”
“No, she is not, so calm down. I made this decision on my own.”
He reclaimed his plate and went after his ham and eggs as if they were to blame. “I advise against this harebrained notion.”
“I knew you would.” Mary felt oddly at ease once the news was out. She sipped her coffee and then buttered her toast.
“Give me one good reason why you think this is a good idea.”
She had many, but she offered the first that came to mind. “I need a change of scenery.”
Perhaps he loved her as a brother ought, but he was hard-pressed to show it, even now. He’d never gotten over their father’s untimely death—neither had she. But she didn’t take it out on him a bite at a time. ~ Hope Is Built (Coming soon to a book seller near you!)
Congratulations, Deanna Sturgeon! You are the randomly selected winner of a signed print copy of A Change of Scenery.
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