CHRISTMAS BLESSINGS CAME EARLY and all year long!

I got the most amazing Christmas gift from the Universe this morning, on this, the Winter Solstice.

Walking with our dear friends Leslie and Karl in the town where we used to live, Spencertown, New York, we saw three!!! mature bald eagles circling overhead, their white heads and tails glistening in the sun. 

My heart rose up to greet them and I felt so incredibly joyful.  I was head to toe in goosebumps and filled with gratitude.

Later, when we got back to our own house, I realized that I have been getting gifts from the Universe all year long.

Like yesterday, when I was meditating, and the red-tailed hawk that so often visits me landed on the tree branch that I can see through the window. Plumped up feathers, and a proud head! I watched steadily through the binoculars admiring the dark grey bars marking the tail.

A couple of weeks ago, a series of four red foxes paraded through the meadow, coming right up to our back lawn! (We think their den is in the woods next to the house.) 

A couple of the foxes displayed their prancing hunting style, jumping up and down to capture small prey in the tufts of brown grass in the meadow.

Earlier this year, I twice spotted a tawny-colored bobcat

at the far end of the meadow. It took my breath away. So did the giant blue heron that flapped its six-foot wingspread overhead. And the tiny brown minks, their coats soft and shiny, slinking through the lawn.

And then there was the hulking black bear

lazily crossing our driveway one afternoon this summer as I prepared to go to town. I sat, open-mouthed in the car, watching as it lumbered into our neighbor's yard.

Perhaps the most amazing animal event that happened this year took place during the early part of the summer, when I helped save a tiny fawn from the likes of a large coyote.

It was evening and the light in the sky was turning purplish grey. 

I had seen a bushy-tailed coyote

lurking in the meadow earlier in the day. Coyotes scare me, probably because I know how dangerous it would be for our darling little dog Poco to encounter one. 

Rich and I had seen the mother deer and fawn in previous days.

We were just about to go into the house one evening when we heard a loud bleating noise. We looked down the meadow and there was the tiny fawn, running back and forth along the fence. Beyond the fence was the mother deer. Apparently, the little one couldn't get through or over the fence.

Suddenly, I saw the coyote at the right edge of the meadow starting to approach the fawn!

I gasped. Without thinking, I went running into the meadow screaming at the top of my lungs. "GET OUT OF HERE!!! GET OUT OF HERE!!" I kept screaming over and over again as I waved my arms wildly over my head. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!!"

The coyote turned and scampered away. And the next thing I knew the mother deer had hopped back over the fence where her precious fawn was still bleating.

Out of breath, and shaking, I retreated to the lawn and watched while the mother led her fawn slowly up the meadow not far from the lawn. She stood there and just stared at me, her baby safely beside her.

I stood up and walked toward the meadow and spoke to her. "I'm so glad she is safe," I called out to the deer. "And please feel free to come back here anytime." We three stood there for a while, and finally A the mother led the fawn into the wetland and disappeared.

So looking back, it's been quite a year for animal sightings around here. 

We try never to take them for granted -- well, except maybe sightings of squirrels and chipmunks.

But the birds -- cardinals and bluebirds and hummingbirds and Baltimore orioles and dazzling yellow goldfinches and purple house finches and

red-bellied woodpeckers and downy woodpeckers and even a rose-breasted grosbeak

(Rich saw while meditating) -- we manage to maintain awe for all of them.

This afternoon, I walked across the meadow to greet our neighbors: three beautiful horses that graze in the field and occasionally go galloping up the hills to the barn.'

We are truly blessed. And as grateful as we can be.