Last night I dreamed I rescued a newborn baby that was on the street being run over by a truck - not once, but twice. The wheels of the truck did not run over the baby, naked, except for a thin, white towel. Somehow, it had just been born and the driver of the truck had no idea it was there, on the road, behind it. So, I picked the newborn up before it could be run over a third time, and carried it in my arms to the Emergency Room where a highly competent nurse took the baby from me, and immediately started to warm it up. I was so concerned about carrying it to a safe place, I had neglected to try and warm it. I left the newborn there in the Emergency Room, in competent hands. I could rescue the baby from harm, but I could not be the one to save it. 

There are many many reasons I may have dreamt this dream. One of which, is that my youngest daughter, my woman-fawn, called me in Maine in the early afternoon from the woods crying with fear and concern: taking the dogs on their walk in my absence, they had come upon a fawn, newly born, who could not even yet stand, and the mother, worried and concerned nearby, watching, having just given birth. And my daughter was trying to keep the dogs from troubling the fawn, Suzi licked it, and my daughter was awestruck and needed to tell me of this momentous event she was encountering, by the river, right where I walk every day, in fact, one of my favorite places to stop and look at what the weather is doing to the river. 

She got the dogs indoors and kept them there. She gave the mother time and space to return to her fawn in the woods.

All photos and text by Kelly DuMar