Dear Deer
from the Ninth Wave Arts caretakers
The door was opened the other day to find two deer standing in the parking lot, basking in a fleeting ray of sunshine.
Like us, they seemed to be gathering the last of the warmth the season has to offer. With the first frosts creeping in, the deer are emerging from the valley fields and making their way toward the ridge. It has become a daily—and nightly—presence now: the soft crunch of leaves, the occasional crack of branches beneath hooves as they move through the bush.
Deer have long been seen as symbols of intuition, grace, and adaptability. It is often said they teach that the path is not always predictable—that it asks for flexibility, for attunement, for a willingness to move with changing energies and seasons. They remind us that finding the way forward involves both trusting instinct and reading the signs along the path.
There is something undeniably magical in their presence. To notice them is to be reminded that the magic is always here, if attention is given.
As those two stood in the narrow band of sunlight, a third could be seen at the edge of the forest—more hesitant, not yet ready to step fully into the open, but drawn toward the others. And then, a subtle movement deeper in the woods suggested a fourth.
Slowly, they made their way forward—finding courage in one another as they stepped into the shared light.
The deer speak clearly this time of year: it is a season for gathering.
As the temperatures drop, they come together in herds, finding safety and warmth in numbers. A living expression of strength in unity, of connection, of community through the colder months.
Watching all four standing together in that slender ray of sun, there was a moment of recognition—of being among them. Skin warmed by the light, spirit warmed by the presence of others.
Gathering in circles—around fire, around table, within shared experience—nurtures relationship and a sense of belonging.
Just as deer rely on one another for protection and companionship, there is an invitation for us to do the same. Gatherings in this season become a source of warmth, resilience, and quiet joy amid the unpredictability of winter—sudden snowfalls, sharp winds, and moments of stark beauty that call for presence and awareness.
As the door was being closed, there was another noticing—a black squirrel perched on the edge of a nearby stump, also watching the deer. She must have been there all along, holding her own awareness of the moment.
There was a pause to watch her.
And then, as if complete, she moved—making her way to the big tree, where three other black squirrels waited. The last litter of the season, still together. Gathering.
It seemed she, too, had received the message of the deer.
