{"id":807,"date":"2016-12-31T02:31:28","date_gmt":"2016-12-31T02:31:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/?p=807"},"modified":"2025-04-21T13:40:35","modified_gmt":"2025-04-21T13:40:35","slug":"winter-solstice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/12\/31\/winter-solstice\/","title":{"rendered":"Winter Solstice"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"fawn\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My wife looked out upon a single fawn<\/p>\n

that gnawed, unaware, at the hedge<\/p>\n

beside the rock garden on this first day<\/p>\n

of winter.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something wrong with one of its legs,\u201d<\/p>\n

she told me with a frown. \u00a0As it grazed its way<\/p>\n

to the yew bushes along the front walk, I could<\/p>\n

see that she was right.<\/p>\n

The deer was young, a few months old at best,<\/p>\n

from its size, left hind leg hobbled a bit by<\/p>\n

what seemed a tumor that shackled her<\/p>\n

to her fate.<\/p>\n

The fawn foraged in solitude amid a carpet of<\/p>\n

snow, cast out perhaps from the herd to fend<\/p>\n

alone all predators, to ward off the dark, to<\/p>\n

die at last a solitary death and take with it<\/p>\n

the blight it bore.<\/p>\n

Was this the lone deer we saw below our<\/p>\n

bedroom window two nights past, feasting<\/p>\n

on the birdseed I had scattered beneath<\/p>\n

the feeder? We\u2019d thought it odd to see<\/p>\n

but one.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d stood, legs splayed, nearly genuflecting<\/p>\n

as she fed, the nap of her young fur smooth<\/p>\n

and gleaming in the moonglow. We hadn\u2019t<\/p>\n

noticed in that swath of silver light the knob<\/p>\n

that hobbled her, her outcast plight.<\/p>\n

As the shadows lengthen on this longest night,<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll seed again the snow beneath the barren ash,<\/p>\n

will scatter far and wide the feed to brook the<\/p>\n

coming darkness, the feeble light.<\/p>\n

Thomas D. Kersting<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  My wife looked out upon a single fawn that gnawed, unaware, at the hedge beside the rock garden on this first day of winter.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":true,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-807","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7zCq3-d1","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":859,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2017\/04\/17\/her-land\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":0},"title":"Her Land","author":"Christine Bexley","date":"April 17, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"*Originally written for Pawling Public Radio's \"America the Beautiful\" poetry presentation \u00a0 I lay on the land, grass tickling bare toes. Descendants of descendants of descendants of the first ants to explore the soil steadily tiptoe over ancient rock and me. Crow caws, reminding me to remember the time before\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/04\/P1010968-1024x768.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":293,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/07\/13\/do-it-all-again\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":1},"title":"DO IT ALL AGAIN","author":"Linda Myers","date":"July 13, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"I am sheathed in gray, riding under smoky clouds and through heavy fog, soaked through on this late October afternoon, a light mist sliding off my lashes and I stick out my tongue to catch the rivulets running down my face. I am atop, Chip, my seventeen hand gelding, a\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Prose"","block_context":{"text":"Prose","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/prose\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"note 4 july1016 340","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=1050%2C600 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/note-4-july1016-340.jpg?resize=1400%2C800 4x"},"classes":[]},{"id":6135,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2024\/12\/04\/fall-swirls\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":2},"title":"Fall Swirls","author":"Christine Bexley","date":"December 4, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Photo by Los Muertos Crew on Pexels.com Breezes float over squash patches now bursting:once bright blossoms, now baseball bats.I trepidatiously turn off the air con, leave the fan onjust in case, to oscillate any surprise wash of wet heat fit to sideswipe us patient fall fanaticsdesperate for a cool morning\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"overhead shot of a tarot card and healing crystals","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":356,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/07\/19\/the-fine-art-of-not-writing\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":3},"title":"The Fine Art Of Not Writing","author":"Gary Gladstone","date":"July 19, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u00a0Gary Gladstone Today I will write more because last week I let a million distractions keep me from actually hitting the keys. I\u2019ll start now. I feel better because of my resolve. Let's start. Let me just check email first. I'll open this important-looking message. I paid that already! I\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Essay"","block_context":{"text":"Essay","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/essay\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Not Writing art _1.jpg","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":641,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/11\/17\/she-fled-him-down-the-days\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":4},"title":"SHE FLED HIM DOWN THE DAYS","author":"James Crafford","date":"November 17, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"(with a nod to Francis Thompson)\u00a0 \u00a0 She ran She fled \u00a0 He was Maleness to her He was Strength He was deep sexual Lust \u00a0 She ran from him She rented a cottage near Misquamicut Beach* And stayed there the entire off season \u00a0 He was Intellect to her\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/nov162016-485.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/nov162016-485.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/nov162016-485.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/nov162016-485.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":467,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/08\/04\/not-what-it-seems\/","url_meta":{"origin":807,"position":5},"title":"Not What It Seems","author":"Jeff Ginsburg","date":"August 4, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cEthan, it\u2019s Delilah.\u201d \u201cHi Delilah. I\u2019m almost there.\u00a0 Are you?\u201d I ask as I walk briskly through the cold winter night. \u201cI\u2019m gonna be late. \u00a0Don\u2019t worry my friend Rachel will be there.\u201d \u201cI thought it would be an evening of just you and me.\u201d I reply. \u201cHa ha.\u201d\u00a0 She\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fiction"","block_context":{"text":"Fiction","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/fiction\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"googSquareC","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/googSquareC-300x284.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/807","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=807"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/807\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":822,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/807\/revisions\/822"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=807"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=807"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=807"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}