OK, so as this blog has now beyond any doubt assumed the character and form of Fat Uncle Al who won't leave the dance floor - I'm gon' start mashin' things up.
Five months in the village and we've just in the last couple of weeks met some friends. It's always a pleasure to meet people you like, and as you get older that moment becomes rarer, and when you move to a small village you assume (probably wrongly) that you'll meet even fewer like-minded people.
So tonight I was in the Walb alone, and I arranged to meet our new friends in the not-posh pub for a quick pint. And my shabby typing will tell you that I was still there at nearly 11. Pished and happy. I walked my companion-in-alcohol home and walked up the back lane with my phone in one hand and my super-butch torch in the other. (Some London habits are hard to break, namely the habit of assuming (correctly) that if you walk down a dark street with your phone out you'll be mugged.) Anyway, finished the call, walked up the road, flashed the super-bright torch across the road, down the ginnel we take to the beach.
And here's where we leave the rest behind. Because there, in the insolent glare of my posh torch, was a beautiful muntjac deer. I could see his antlers and the beautiful kohl stripes across his cheeks, and his sudden panic at being caught. He was only ten paces from the road, so maybe I did him a favour, and I paused only because I couldn't believe that I had been so lucky, but I soon came to mind and snuffed the light and left him to his nocturnal ramble.
Most of the wildlife I've stumbled upon while we've been here has been dead. I can't count the number of bird, rabbit and general vermin corpses I've walked past in the past five months. But I've seen live deer in passing - along Palmer's Lane, and I've seen them on the train line at Darsham – but tonight I caught him completely by chance. He was late, I was late, I was showing off my torch, he was showing off, accidentally, his ridiculous, heart-filling beauty. That's all really. I saw him because I am lucky enough to live here, and have friends to meet at the pub, and a torch that's bright. I hope he found the food he was looking for, and he was careful of the road, and that he lives to bring, on another dark night, sudden, glorious, fizz-popping joy to the eyes and mind and heart of another slightly tipsy human bean in genuine need of wonder and inspiration.
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i have never thought of myself as superstitious (sp sorry we have few working keys left on the laptop and I can't be arsed to go back) or would never admit that i thought i may be (or thinking about whether i am or not). but i have decided. the deer is a 'clear' indication that these are 'good' friends. they are keepers. it is and was a sign. keep us all posted - on whether the deer materialises again and about the friends - they sound well nice.
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