On the night of January 5 – 6, The Three Wise Men, Los Reyes Magos in Spanish, visit all the children in the world as they travel to Bethlehem. They bear gifts to these children and January 6 is a time of visitors and gifts.

First: the visitors. Three deer walked out of the woods this morning. They paraded in front of the garage, luckily we had the door open, and equally luckily, I was able to get these photos of them.


This is the lead deer. At this stage, the road was empty and I hadn’t been seen.


The camera’s click sounded the alarm. The deer froze … and so did I. We gazed at each other for several seconds. I was afraid to move.


I took another photo. The feet picked up as the camera clicked and away the deer went.


Baby came last, but didn’t stay long.


Up went the tail and away baby sped. Wapiti, White-tailed deer, tail in the air.

After the visitors, came the gifts.

Below is a link to my first Poetry book of 2008: Iberian Interludes. It arrived just in time for Reyes … the little boy that still dwells within this old man’s heart is delighted with his gift: the majority of my best poems about Spain gathered together beneath two new covers. Click below and open the box!

May you all have a great visit from the Three Wise Men (los Tres Reyes Magos), and may you all have a prosperous and joyous New Year, full of excellent writing.



8 thoughts on “Reyes

    • Thank you. I have a good camera and the rest was luck. Clare saw them first, we got the camera in time to see them through the trees, the garage door happened to be open (we were expecting a visitor), and there they were: it all came together. Ears up at the first click!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Happy Epiphany, Roger!

    I welcome anything that might arrive today – three wise kings, kings of any kind, wisdom of any kind, or gifts of gold or frankincense, preferably not myrrh, not much call for it. I leave my wee Christmas tree up and lit until today is over, enjoying twelve days of any celebration of light shining in the darkness. I’ll have my last taste of mincemeat tonight, perhaps a little port as well. These are the small celebrations which, being small and private, have more meaning somehow than the loud and boisterous ones of recent days.

    Your small boy’s delight in seeing your poetry book between new covers is that sort of thrill; I congratulate you. I’m waiting for the postie to deliver one of your books to me, and perhaps that wisdom will arrive today.




    Liked by 1 person

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