2011-09-14 - 6:19 p.m.
Just saw two little deer on the walk from the truck to campus. This whole concrete place, of course, not long ago was all woods and dragonflies and deer pecking at shoots on the lush edge of the trees, where the sunlight's the strongest. I was listening to old-school rap as I passed, the kind with soft repeated horns, words all about New York, when I saw the brown twitch. Two of them, one about a year old, the other maybe two, both sets of bedroom-slipper ears up and angling right and left, all their nerves firing. I stopped, and they were satisfied enough, and so they went back to the pulling and the chewing. After a minute, maybe three, I walked away, and they were very curious about that.
I'd like to write those rappers a letter. They've got to be in their early forties by now. I bet they'd like to know about the confluence of their concrete-y jazz words and those two little nervous urban brown bolts of trembling lightning. Maybe that'd make their day. It made mine.
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