The deer are not so hungry, or maybe the apple are not so sweet. I see their footprints so I know they came this way. The apples lay as if gathered, on the leaves hardly hidden by the grasses, uneaten even by the smallest insects.
The mushroom on the bench, is eaten to crumbs which fruit fly-like insects are swarming.
A single branch of Rosa Multiflora arches over a thin path that leads to the creek. Because it is only three feet high, it becomes a closed gate to any animal taller than that. Unless they are willing to be snagged on the thorns.
I walk the deer trail through the low lying land, now mud from all the rain, to the shallow pool made by the uprooted Shagbark Hickory. The frog is movement out of the corner of my eye that disappears under the silt in the clear pool. Now all is still again, except for the insects, so small they are only a quiver on the surface of the water.
Let’s go back the way we came and beat the path down a little more, I say out loud to Fate.
There’s a button sized mushroom, on a long thread of a stem, that I didn’t see on the way in.
You know that’s funny about the deer. They have always feasted on the apples here but this year not so much. Maybe its because there is such a plentiful supply of choices this year?
That might be it Carolyn, They can be picky!:)
I like all the noticing. You take us there with you. Have you ever eaten a shagbark hickory nut? They’re a bit of work to get into, but they’re quite good.
I have Trish. They were small but very good. They somehow reminded me of coconut.