…presented at Hiram Lodge No. 319, Hagersville, November 8, 2007.

A number of years ago, I rested myself of a flat rock, gun by my side, lot in my thoughts and enjoying the din of the bush around me. The north face of a large hill gave me a view of some distance down the gorge below and across hardwood bush to the opposing hillside.

There was a quiet anticipation of the dogs giving chase as my father led them through the hills to the south of my location.

The quiet was broken by the tell-tale thud if a deer’s foot just over the hill behind me. I scanned the crest to be rewarded by the appearance of a lone doe lazily exploring the floor of the bush. She stooped to graze here and there approaching me as she enjoyed nibbling the plants.

She got within ten or twelve feet from where I lay. With a start she saw me. We looked at each other. She broke the impasse by quietly returning to her grazing. I presume she felt that I was no threat or, possibly , she knew I did not have a doe license.

I enjoyed her company for almost half an hour and, to this day, I am humbled by her trust.

Quiet moments appreciating the lives of other creatures are all too few. In a world made busy by our often pointless pursuit of material things, those moments of sharing in the lives of others are a return to our natural and spiritual being.

The hunt produced no heart-pounding excitement. Before long my father appeared on the far hill with the dogs ambling around their courses toward me.

As they came up to me, the dogs milled excitedly around her tracks. I told my father about the incident I had so enjoyed and, joining in the moment, he inquired of her condition, coat colour and the gentleness of her acceptance of me.

His reaction was not new to me for we had, over the years, encountered such moment on several occasions.

As the years have passed, those times often come to my mind.

Happiness comes with an inner peace that speaks of our nature. Perhaps, none of us are so at peace with our nature as the animals are with theirs.

To all the families of the bush, I wish you well and, with admiration, I beg that you grant such memories to others.

As the animals of the bush, pressed by the needs of their existence, still give of themselves, please give of yourself.