I’ve watched his antlers steadily appear, all nubby at first then more branched. Today, as he ripped apples from our tree, he looks to be a six-point buck. I’m grateful for the opportunity to watch the process and marvel at the natural order of life. It helps me understand that the news of wars and famine, weather and madmen, intrigue and angst that dominates our human world is, in the end, of no concern to the inexorable movement of the nature in her own time. I choose to march in step with that, and it comforts me.