the skies are again murky

the skies are again murky today.
the air crisp.
a layer of fog and clouds lay low upon the hills.
slumbering.
down on its haunches like a lion in the brush.
waiting silently.
i cycled up through the hills today to orinda.
tilden park was perfect.
a flurry of wind and cold on my skin.
the trees more bare than last week.
eucalyptus laying cracked and torn by the road.
the smell damp.
wet earth.
as i rounded a turn, there before me stood a mother deer and her two fawn grazing.
they couldn't have been more than five feet away.
i stopped my bike, lay it upon the ground, and sat on the side of the road
watching them, and sending them my love.
what wondrous creatures.
they looked at me endlessly and i at them.
two animals living here in the same place.
i wonder what they would think of our graceless destrucion of the earth.
our cars and big houses.
our leather coats.
i could see their ribs moving beneath their fur and skin.
the mother had a large red sore spot at the base of her shoulder and left front leg.
i wished i could have helped her heal.
i felt like they knew that i love them.
i rode off, wishing to offer them their space, but knowing that i could have stayed there all day.
i prayed that on my way back by, i wouldn't see one of them dead in the road.
a cluster of blood and bones and mangled hair.
it would have made me cry deeply to see my friend there, crushed by human impatience and innovation.
and they were gone.
back to their house in the hills where we have forced them.
the glorious hills filled with clouds and fog and life.
alive.