When I was in middle school, my family lived out in the country of central Indiana. My house was surrounded by corn and soybean fields on two sides, a privately owned elk farm/rescue on another side, and dense woods with a small creek on the final side. With a mix of rolling paved and gravel roads that gridded their way through this scenery and with my trusty 10-speed bike, it was an adventurous little boy’s paradise.
One evening after school in early November, both of my nearby friends happened to be too busy to play, so I decided to go for a long bike ride alone. My favorite route was about 2 miles in length, and formed a convenient rectangle from my long driveway through the fields, farm, and woods. The crisp autumn air made the ride easy and refreshing.
On this particular ride, the roads were remarkably quiet. It was around 6:30pm, and the sun was beginning to set, casting the countryside with a golden, dreamlike glow. The most beautiful section of the ride was always the woods, especially when the leaves were blazing out their brilliant orange, yellow, and maroon hues. As I turned onto the road through the woods, I decided to intentionally pedal slower. I wanted to soak up every breath the trees offered me as their leaves drifted listlessly to the ground. I pedaled just fast enough to stay upright and let my senses take over.
Much to my surprise, a few dozen yards into the woods, a precious little fawn trotted into the road ahead of me. His caramel fur, bespeckled with cream, looked soft enough to curl up and take a nap in. I stopped my slow pedaling, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and laid my bike down. The fawn calmly stared at me, and I stared back, taking gentle metered steps toward him. The world stood still. As I neared within 5 or 6 feet of him, I decided not to push my luck, and just stood silently with him.
We stood looking into each other’s eyes, one little boy and another, for around 3 minutes that felt like a lifetime. He was beautiful. The leaves falling around his feet were beautiful. The way the breeze made us both shiver in our stillness was beautiful. As the moments came to an end, the tender fawn trotted back into the woods toward his mother whom I now saw in the distance.
I recall this moment as one of the most awe-striking in my life. It was perhaps the first time up to that point that I had actually noticed the present moment, without thinking about the one previous or the next one. It was truly amazing.
As I think back on it, I can’t help but consider – what if I had been pedaling faster? What if I was more concerned about my athletic ability and how quickly I could complete my route compared to yesterday or the day before? What if I was too busy? Likely that fawn may have never scampered out to meet me, or at best it would have only hurried across the road in fear and avoidance.
Beauty happens most often in the slow moments. The moments we choose to let go of our egos and to let go of our to-do lists. I encourage you to slow down this week. Look for those beautiful moments and enjoy them to their fullest extent. May the joy you experience and the beauty you witness lift your mood and carry you through tomorrow on light feet!
–Written by Chase Cotten, Community Director
