My legs and chest were pounding as I powered through the last ascending section of a running loop I call the “Circle of Hell”; a difficult, hilly, one mile loop at Lancaster County Park that I was close to completing for the sixth time in a row.  I wanted to finish strong before assuming my usual post- run pose; flat on my back under the big oak tree. 

I thought I was in the groove but as soon as she sprung into view, I froze. My feet locked to the ground.  Part of me was expecting this.

It was early dusk. The waning sun had lit everything with a golden hue.  Deer like her always come out at this time of day.  She was big and agile, crossing the paved park path in seconds. 

Stopping in the roadside grass, she stared at me, still frozen. I bowed, acknowledged her with a quiet namaste, and stood down.

She was 20 yards away, in front of me. I would defer to her as long as she needed, continuing my run again only after she disappeared into the woods she was headed toward.  I would wait.

I “told” her this in the same spirit as the namaste. She must have heard me.

Her head pitched right, her eyes drawing back across the road toward the garden plots she had come from. I knew what she was trying to say.  I took a few cautious steps to get a look around the bush and towards the garden, and there she was. 

Another one. A younger one. Not a baby, but not close to adult either. 

I nodded my respect to her and turned back to the mother.  She stood her ground anxiously while I ceded mine. I turned around and took several steps away from the split pair, down the hill I was trying to run up.

Namaste again. “It’s safe. Cross little one”.

No luck. I waited, repeated my walk back, and waited again. Everything was so still!

When I let my gaze wander for a moment, the little one made her move.  She was quick like her mother, disturbing only a few leaves; hooves hitting the ground like a tap dancer. 

She was behind her mother now so completely it looked like one deer with a small extra head. Both still looking. Seeming curious. I bowed namaste again. 

We stared at each other a bit more, before I broke my gaze again and looked away. I knew what would happen then.

A twig snapped quietly. I looked up to see the nothing but the hill I had been running up. Maybe “Circle of Hell” isn’t a good name for this loop after all.

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