Counting Deer

If you need to stay awake on a night drive from Reno, Nevada to Eugene, Oregon I have a suggestion: count deer. I recently made this trip myself with my sister and baby. Let me mention that I have been in an accident involving a large deer (or possibly an elk--the jury is still out on that one), and a passenger in several other near misses. My first hand knowledge of the danger had me alert and nearing paranoia with my desire to protect my son and sister.

In the light, this drive is gorgeous as most of the highways are curtained by lush, green forest. In the dark, the likely possibility of hitting a deer and corresponding adrenaline can keep you wide awake with apprehension. If you have no experience with forest dwelling deer darting into the road at night, let me paint a picture for you. A deer suddenly leaps into the road directly in front of your vehicle. If you are lucky, it (or they) stay still and you can swerve around them, but usually they continue moving. To improve your chances of a safe trip you must be vigilant and constantly sweep your eyes across everything your headlights illuminate on and off the road (praying is also a very good idea).

The first deer on my drive made my heart slam around in my chest. It was off to the side, not quite on the road. My sister exclaimed "Oh, deer!," and we both laughed at her unintended pun. As I drove on and the tension subsided I reflected on how beautiful the doe had been. The subsequent deer (there were nine in total), all remained at a safe distance. I began to relax slightly, and decided that the deer out that night were the most benevolent and courteous in creation. It wasn't so bad after all.

Then I saw it--deer number ten. Dead. In the middle of the road. He was a large buck, splayed sickening across the center of both lanes, and I had to swerve slightly to avoid him. This deer affected me more than the nine before it had. I suddenly remembered how real the danger was. The absence of a crumpled car indicated that a semi had hit it, but I shuddered to think of the condition of my own car and passengers if I had been the one to collide with the buck.

I was overjoyed when we finally reached Interstate 5, and left the thickly wooded highways behind. Though deer still cross the 5, the visibility is much better. As the sun came up I continued to reflect on the ten deer, and when I fell into bed after reaching our destination they were in my dreams.

I was highly motivated on that drive to keep my son safe--protect him. I strive to protect him every day. I know that the world is not perfect, but I generally feel comfortable with the level of protection my husband and I provide. I think he is safe. I think he will be okay. But those ten deer have me thinking--reevaluating...should  I be so comfortable? Is he truly safe?

As I have pondered this I have begun recognizing metaphorical deer in my life. They seem okay, benign, much like inactive volcanoes. They don't seem to be harming anyone, but at any moment they could erupt. The tenth deer had erupted, but he was really no more dangerous than the other nine. The truth of the matter is this: a danger is always a danger.

No shift in values or change in policy can have any power over the danger of a volcano. It will erupt when it wants to, and we cannot control it or make it safe. Neither can my own attitude about deer make them more or less dangerous to me on a night drive. Safety comes in recognizing the threats and taking precautions against them, not in rationalizing them away, or pretending that they are harmless. I for one, am going to be more vigilant and recognize the "deer" in my life--because this baby is worth it!