Jon and I watched the deer grazing in the neighbor’s cornfield one afternoon. I remember I went into the house to get my glasses so I could see better. The deer was so big I guessed it was a buck, but I couldn’t see any antlers.
A day or so later when we pulled into the driveway, the deer was back. This time grazing with the donkeys and sheep. They seemed comfortable with each other as if they were old friends sharing a meal. But as I got out of the car and walked towards the gate, the deer slowly backed off, then jumped over the fence into the marsh.
This morning Bud was barking at the deer who was grazing in the pasture next to my studio. The deer didn’t seem concerned with Bud but started to move away when it saw me.
I kept looking for the antlers, even small furry ones, but still didn’t see any. It might be a doe, or a young buck. Maybe soon I’ll see her with a fawn or him sprouting antlers, then I’ll know for sure.
I see deer and their tracks all the time, but I don’t know so little about them.
After a while, the deer gracefully leaped over the fence, stopping before crossing Route 22, as if looking both ways for cars.
I held my breath when it ran across the road and disappeared in the tall grasses on the hill that leads into the woods.