poetry and prose about place

Posts Tagged ‘deer

falling snow

with 6 comments




busy snow


pecks at

the window edge

lays cold feathers

along the glass

builds a humped man

around the backbone

of the mugo pine

startles the

grazing deer



Copyright  2014  Jane Tims




Written by jane tims

December 3, 2014 at 7:05 am

dazzled by dresser jars

with 7 comments

Dresser jars have always been an interest of mine.  You often see them at antique stores and at auctions.

My Mom had an iridescent peach-colored dresser jar with a glass terrier on top and a pink-colored dresser jar with a young deer.

My collection of dresser jars is one of my favorite possessions.  The collection includes several dresser jars of a type made in the 1930s to 1950s (by the Jeannette Glass Company).  They are all round, made with clear or iridescent glass.  They were used as jars for women’s dressers, to hold powder.

I have four young deer (or ‘Bambi’) dresser jars, two iridescent peach-colored, one pink and one clear…

'Bambi' dresser jar

three swans, one green, one blue-green green and one amber (the swans have a cut-glass base and a hollow in their backs to hold lipstick)…  I also have a clear swan, top only…

green swan dresser jar

two terrier dog dresser jars, both peach-colored and iridescent…

terrier dresser jar

and one poodle dresser jar, peach-colored and iridescent…

poodle dresser jar

This year, I added an elephant dresser jar made of clear glass to my collection.

elephant dresser jar


Do you know of any other designs in this type of dresser jar?


Copyright  Jane Tims  2013

Written by jane tims

January 25, 2013 at 7:45 am

dear deer

with 6 comments

This year, I moved our feeders to our front yard.

They are not so easy to see from the house, although I have a good view from the window of our library.

feeders in front yard

The deer have liked the new feeding station.  We see them almost every day.  They empty the feeder too quickly and also visit the compost pile.  We don’t deliberately feed the deer, but they visit the feeders anyway.

deer in yard


deep and delicate,  hoof print

evidence, this space is shared


deer, eat peelings by moonlight

one floor up, we sleep, unaware


lulled by winter carbs

carrots and potatoes in the supper stew


deer pauses to look back

Copyright  Jane Tims  2013

Written by jane tims

January 21, 2013 at 7:17 am

black and amber signs

with 6 comments

When people and animals try to occupy the same space, sometimes misfortune or even tragedy occurs.  In New Brunswick, drivers constantly scan for deer and friends include a warning to ‘watch for moose’ in their goodbyes.

The tragedy works both ways.  A moose is a big animal – a collision will mangle a car and destroy a young life in an instant.  At the same time, a turtle killed on the highway is a loss for our ecology and our biodiversity.

The first step in preventing tragic encounters of vehicles with deer and moose and other wild life is the black and amber sign.  It warns us when we travel through the spaces animals consider home. 

In New Brunswick the fatalities involving moose have been so high, the Department of Transportation works constantly on a program of fencing and tunnels to keep cars and people separate and to provide safe passage for animals.

Often in our travels, my husband and I stop to rescue turtles from becoming road kill, carefully moving them off the road in the direction of their destination.  In Ontario, we were delighted to encounter Turtle Crossing signs.  These signs serve to warn and also to make people aware that the wetlands are home to many species.


black and amber


take these as warning

black on amber

time presses forward

no back-spin in the gyre

lost is lost

bubbles make no progress

against the river’s flow

five things to do

before evening

the least of these

to notice the shadow

climbs the wall

her hair tangles

on the pillow as she sleeps


remember the deer

how it fits itself to the hollow

of the hood of the car

and the moose matches pace

with the bike

prolonging collision


remember how the turtle withdraws its feet

refuses to move

just another

stone on the highway


© Jane Tims   2011

Written by jane tims

October 26, 2011 at 6:48 am

trampled grass on a flat-topped hill

with 2 comments

I change the spaces I enter, even when I enter only for a moment.  I am an intruder.  I am certain feet have scurried into hiding just as I arrive.  Sounds have ceased.  Scents and tastes have been altered.

Once in a while, my difference can be disguised.  I can enter before the space can know I am there.  If I am quiet, if I walk softly, some agent will help me pass through the veil and remain unnoticed, just long enough to see and hear and taste the true essence of the place.  Often, the generous agent is the wind.

It was a favorite hike, an old cart track winding up the side of a dome-shaped hill in the Elkwater Lake area of the Cypress Hills in southern Alberta.  The hill had a flat top and a thick bristle of conifers along the sides.  On the flat top was a fescue grass meadow, a bit of prairie perched a layer above the mixed grasslands. 

a hill at Elkwater Lake ... coniferous woods and grassland on the same hill

The track was not much more than two ruts, worn into the grass.  It curved up the side of the hill, so the approach was gentle, gradual.  Then, abruptly, the hilltop.  If the wind was right, I could surprise the deer.  They yarded there, grazing the grasses, etching paths into the meadow.  

If the wind stayed in my favor, the deer would linger, chewing their cuds, watching me, but not registering my difference.  As long as the wind blew I could watch, but if it settled, my scent would reach the deer.  They would lift their heads and tails and be off in a few zigzag bounds. 


 deer yard

on a flat-topped hill



below the hill is the distant prairie  

speargrass and grama grass

and the sweetgrass hills of Montana


the grass at my feet is different

fescues of the Cypress Hills

flat-topped remnants of the Great Plateau

untouched by glacier scour



bless the wind

it sorts the grasses

lifts each hair

ruffles the limp and fine


wind nudges the stubble

the artist’s bristle

the tail hairs of the doe

the chop of fresh grass


her gentle cud

her watchful eyes

wind in the spokes

of the mule deer wheel


the trampled paths

a game of fox and geese

or the part teased by wind

into sun-blond hair



if the wind takes a breath

if the grass or the hair 

settles on the shoulder

of the hill

she runs!


seeks the safety

of the downslope






curious on this flat-topped hill

its rightful place

the ancient prairie


Published as: “deer yard on a flat-topped hill”, 2010, Canadian Stories 13 (76)




© Jane Tims

deer on the grasslands of Nebraska (2002)

Written by jane tims

August 28, 2011 at 8:11 am

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