A while ago, as I worked in my home office, a small herd of young deer came over the stone walls. Two entered the yard. A nibble from the ground here, a nibble from the ground there. Delicate steps, ear-twisting listening, noses seeking the scent of danger. Zip, gone a few tips of lily leaves, a few hydrangea leaves, a few rose leaves. After they left, there was no sign that they had been here. No bare spot of grass, no absent frond of lily leaves, no stripped branch of hydrangea or rose. I was struck by how carefully they steward the land from which they take their sustenance - a lesson I try to live daily as I seek to simplify the material part of life.