The Deer Lay Down Their Bones

"Every portion of the Universe appears to be a mirror, in which the whole creation is represented" 

- Madame de Staël

Walking with Mary, June 2014

I was named after the daughter-in-law of the American poet, Robinson Jeffers. The Jeffers family were all friends of my parents, and the daughter-in-law of course, was named Lee* (see definition at the end of this entry). My mother loved this name, and I love it too. I can look back on my childhood and say I spent countless days and sleepovers at Tor House. Lee's daughter, Una, was the same age as as myself and our mothers, who were pregnant with us both simultaneously, were close friends as were Una and me to become during our youth. Robinson's son, Donnan, his wife Lee and their two children all lived together in the stone house after the death of Robinson's wife, from whom the younger Una took her name.

I have memories of running up the stone tower, where Robinson Jeffers wrote; he would be cross with us for disturbing his peace and we would dash down the stairs making a raucous more from a sense of terror than anything. It was a house that felt like an enchanted castle, set amongst a glen of tall pines and cypress. Robinson built the house himself, from stones that he carried up from the beach. I no longer remember how he did it and everyone is now long gone to tell me, though I have seen some early photographs.

My landscape 

What I do know is, that along with my other close friend in childhood, Jana Weston, who is the granddaughter of the photographer Edward Weston, I lived an astonishing childhood in an extraordinary time, in an environment of artistic genius that was the firm foundation from which my own understanding of life and nature were nurtured. There was a certain wildness about our bohemian childhoods and in some ways I was feral enough to feel remarkably connected to the natural elements in which I spent so much of my time, not only reveling in but believing that the wildlife, the trees and stones were talking to me in whispering languages I could fully understand. I seem to have remembered those languages.

Here then is Robinson Jeffer's beautiful, heart breaking poem,that mentions Una and my name in a meaning separate from me yet connected none-the-less.   

The Deer Lay Down Their Bones

I followed the narrow cliffside trail halfway up the mountain

Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,

   flinging itself

Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jewelled fern-fronds, bright bubbling 

   water

Pure from the mountain, but a bad smell came up. Wondering at it I

   clambered down the steep stream

Some forty feet, and found in the midst of the bush-oak and laurel,

Hung like a birds nest on the precipice brink a small hidden clearing,

Grass and a shallow pool. But all about there were bones hidden in the grass,

   clean bones and stinking bones,

Antlers and bones: I understood that the place was a refuge for wounded

   deer; there are so many

Hurt ones escape the hunters and limp away to lie hidden; here they have 

   water for the awful thirst

And peace to die in; dense green laurel and grim cliff

Make sanctuary, and a sweet wind blows upward from the gorge. -I

   wish my bones were hidden with theirs.

But that's a foolish thing to confess, and a little cowardly. We know that life

Is on the whole quite equally good and bad, mostly gray neutral, and can be

   endured

To the dim end, no matter what magic of grass, water and precipice, and 

   pain of wounds,

Makes death look dear. We have been given life and have used it - not a 

   great gift perhaps - but in honesty

should use it at all. Mine's empty since my love died - Empty? The

   flame-haired grandchild with great blue eyes

That look like hers? - What can I do for the child? I gaze at her and

   wonder what sort of man

In the fall of the world...I am growing old, that is the trouble. My

   children and little grandchildren

Will find their way, and why should I wait ten years yet, having lived

   sixty-seven, ten years more or less,

Before I crawl out on the ledge of rock and die snapping, like a wolf

Who has lost his mate? - I am bound by my own thirty-year-old decision:

   who drinks the wine

Should take the dregs; even in the bitter lees and sediment

New discovery may lie. The deer in that beautiful place lay down their 

   bones: I must wear mine.

Fin

*lee

noun

the lee of the wall shelter, protection, cover, refuge, safety, security

&

lee |lē|

noun

shelter from wind or weather given by a neighboring object, esp. nearby land : we pitch our tents in the lee of a rock.

• (also lee side) the sheltered side; the side away from the wind : ducks were taking shelter on the lee of the island. Contrasted with weather .

-On-line computer Dictionary