Wrapping up my first year of writing for The Mountain-Ear with a hardy and heart-felt thank you to the community for following along this weekly article since its inception! Over the course of the last six months or so it has brought me great joy to run into so many of you out there who approached me with your thanks and appreciation of the work. While I have dabbled in writing over the years on social media, I am incredibly grateful to Barbara Hardt for giving me the opportunity to carry on that practice in a way that goes directly to the community I call home. Thank you all!

Being that I put together the articles about a week or so prior to publishing, I am “currently” sitting inside on a quite chilly evening watching the snow gently falling and accumulating on the tree branches and fence rails. My mind drifts out into the forest, among the pines and the cold silence of many a winter’s night past, as our wild neighbors hunkered down for “just another night” in the wild.

Having recently seen a few of the local clan, I think about the Sunnyside herd of mule deer and the many years I enjoyed playing host to them on just such a blustery winter night. Christmas music plays softly on the radio in my warm home, leaving me feeling quite spoiled as I dip a cookie into some hot cocoa and continue my reminiscing.

It is easy to anthropomorphize (attaching human attributes to animals) a bit too much and want to bring them all inside to be warm and cozy on such a cold night as this. The reality is that while we think we are empathizing with them, we are doing so by having ourselves “devolved” from life in the outdoors, while they have continued to evolve to adapt and survive, often in a lot hardier fashion than we give them credit for. That is not to say they “enjoy” the more drastic conditions such as this evening, but they know all too well how to survive and in some cases, thrive in these conditions, and that invitation to come inside, or even simply be fed could ultimately be the cause of their death rather than the aid of their survival.

As my mind continues to wander, I think about the matron of the Sunnyside clan (seen here in this week’s image) as she leads the herd among the houses and the falling snows. I’ve enjoyed watching her from her earliest days, year by year growing into the leader, through far deeper snows and colder temperatures. I’ve enjoyed watching her little ones, and then their little ones, all following in her hoofprints, not just surviving, but growing the herd. This would not be so were they not gifted with the necessary adaptations and lessons from the evolution of the species.

Life in the wild is quite literally all about survival, no matter how close the wild is to what we consider our creature comforts. It is a harsh world to survive, especially here in the mountains. It is quite stunning to see our wild neighbors do it with such seeming grace and confidence without the “interference” of humans. I am ever humbled when my mind drifts to this strong and beautiful neighbor, and all the wildlife out there whom I have had the pleasure of spending time with over my years in our grand “back yard.”

That said, I am also humbled and give thanks to the humans who came before me and evolved in their own right to develop warm homes for the hairless. I give thanks for those who came before and cultivated the knowledge of cooking foods, so that I might gain another dip of cookie into the hot cocoa as the snows continue to fall outside and the fox trots down the street in front of the house with a freshly caught rodent. About as near a perfect pre-Christmas evening as one could wish for up here on the edge of the wilderness.

Now that you’re reading this after Christmas, I hope it was a wonderful one for you and wish you all the very best for the new year! See you all in 2023!

For additional information about James DeWalt Photography, check out https://jamesdewaltphotography.com.