I wanted to see deer. I was searching for real experiences with deer to add to the book I’m writing. (It’s a novel for 8 to 14 year olds about a sister and brother stranded in the woods.) That and well, we desperately needed a vacation. We needed to relax. We needed Minnesota.
Minnesota, the state in which I was born, but have not lived in for 14 years. Oh, how I was homesick. Oh, how I wanted to be in Minnesota’s nature. We would need a tent, tons of gear, a campground, or a family member with lake access. None of these things we had. However, we did have Airbnb. We found a place with a tent already set up, real furniture inside, swimming beach, and a sauna for a reasonable price, not camping but glamping. We arrived and set ourselves up like natives with our sunblock and bug spray.
I set out on several walks to see deer. One at dusk, down the long, straight road, framed by woods on either side, the perfect place for deer, according to my research. My camera was ready, yet I saw nothing.
Meanwhile, there was our little slice of Shallow Lake for the week. A pair of loons popped up and hung out next to my husband on the kayak. An eagle skimmed the lake. A group of ducks tucked into the little bay to the right of the dock for the night. Upset after a fight with his little sister, our son paddled out on the lake, this small expanse of waters, so limitless in comparison to the crowded public pools that we are used to. He returned calmer. After days of sun, swimming, barbecues, visits from family, and campfires, my husband caught that exact moment when everything caught up with our daughter and she let herself be carried away by the wind in the trees and the loons’ melancholy call. He watched her eyelids flutter. She fell into a deep, contented sleep.
Towards the end of the week, I went out for a jog. I had just stepped onto the road and was searching for a song on my phone when I felt eyes on me. She was just out of her spots, like the deer in my novel. Her white tail was so large and fluffy in comparison to her little sleek body and stick legs. She scrambled across the road and leapt into the air, a move she must have seen her mother do to flee in thick woods. There was nothing to jump over on the flat road, but the leap was adorable all the same. There were less trees on the other side, so she ran right back to where she had been to dive into the protection of the trees.
I could not just go out and find deer, deer find you. They almost always spot you first, and it’s always the deer who decide what they will do next. Of course we can hunt, feed, even farm deer, but at that moment, it was just human and wild animal. I controlled nothing. The young deer’s presence was a gift, completely on her terms.
Wildness goes on in the margins of our human lives. After leaving Minnesota, I often forget to look for it. But here, I saw it again, so clearly. I could watch that young deer flick her tail, rotate her ears, and run to the safety of her trees. I was allowed a snapshot of her wildness. More precisely, I was in the perfect state of mind to awe at her wild, beautiful freedom.
Like our stay here, we came here to relax, an impossible mandate. But then a small clearing between the trees was carved out for us. There were no worries, an electric griddle to make pancakes, garbage service, clear instructions, all the little things were thought of so we could be fully present. We could be ourselves. Minnesota found us. I felt at home, again. Thank you Minnesota Glamping Adventures!
Frozen Ocean Mom 
How beautiful, and how true! It makes me miss Minnesota, too. It was a breath of fresh air, and a whiff of the wild, reading this.
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