Christmas Morning

On most Christmas mornings, I notice the silence. The road, never terribly busy, is quiet as people stay in their houses. The deer notice this too. In the low mid-morning light of December, they emerge from the woods. They come in twos and threes until more than twenty are grazing in the cornfield near our house. But we won’t see them this morning. Winds outside are gusting thirty miles per hour. The deer will take refuge in the woods, like we take refuge in our house.