"He's Got The Whole World In His Hands"

For those of us fortunate enough to have been born and raised in Kentucky one of our great joys is the change of seasons.

And among those of us who enjoy being outdoors autumn in Kentucky is perhaps the greatest blessing of all.

The low evening sun casts a warm glow across golden fields bordered by radiant trees blowing gently in the cool breeze. Deep blue mid day skies provide the backdrop to a never ending supply of white clouds racing overhead like herds of wild horses set free.

And for those of us who like to rise before sun up and venture into the woods, autumn is the season where the smell of ripe leaves, fresh earth and melting frost fill the senses with every breath of cold rich air.

This year however the woodlots and fields are producing a very different sensation. The forest is filled with the stench of rotting flesh.

Kentucky boasts an incredibly successful whitetail deer restoration program. Our state-wide herd has been very healthy for many years.

The harvest of this magnificent renewable resource has provided countless people with one of nature’s healthiest foods. Venison is all natural, virtually fat free, pure protein and delicious.

On a larger scale the sport of hunting pumps millions of dollars into the economy and brings thousands of men, women and young people into an up close and personal contact with the natural beauty of God’s creation.

But this year a disease spread by gnats swarming around the dwindling watering spots along creek beds wrung dry by the severe drought of 2007 have infected the whitetail herd with Epizootic hemorrhagic disease.

Yesterday morning I watched as a lonely fawn tried to find food beneath a dozen white oak trees. This time of year it is rare to see a fawn by itself. Born in May and June they are usually still with their mother and often other does and fawns living together for safety and comfort.

The sight of a single fawn alone in the woods was testament to the resonating consequences of the death toll among the adult deer in the herd.

Soon I saw the fawn react intensely to the footsteps of an approaching deer. The fawn ran directly toward the sound. Then I saw a doe walking slowly through the brush. Her ears were drooping, her stomach withered and her ribs were showing. Saliva was dripping from her mouth. The fawn immediately tried to nurse this obviously very sick doe.

I doubt this was its mother. I suspect that the fawn desperately wanted the comfort and nourishment of its mother’s milk. In all likelihood the fawns mother was gone, the young deer abandoned to fend for itself far too young to make its chances of survival better than 50-50.

And as for the sick doe, I suspect that if she lives another few days she might survive the disease, but unless she can build up her strength and weight, it is doubtful she will survive the winter.

Then this morning I watched as four fawns and two does frolicked in the first rays of the sun out among the tall grasses of an overgrown pasture. The fawns chased and played, jumping over one another’s backs. Their mother’s appeared healthy, alert and well fed.

The morning chill gave them energy. The rising sun gave them cause to play. The grace of God has let them survive.

In conversation with a man the other day about the impact this disease would have on Kentucky’s deer herd he offered an interesting comment. I’ve never known him to be particularly religious, and yet he wondered if this disease was in some way God’s method of pruning the deer numbers to make the herd healthier in the long run, “Like windstorms prune trees,” he said.

How fortunate indeed are we who are graced ourselves to be witness to God’s creation. And how much more peaceful is our appreciation of the world around us, when we know that the world rests gently in God’s loving hands.