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| On a November walk, we saw several does and this buck, who kept his harem in the woodlands adjoining subdivisions! |
When we were young, riding up the road, Dad showered praise on the kid who spotted one or more tan deer, blending seamlessly into tan grass and sagebrush on a hillside.
The catch? We had to see them before Dad did—and he spotted them with one eye closed from a mile away.
This tradition endures. I praise grandchildren when they spot wildlife, but it doesn’t happen much, since Idaho mule deer give civilization a wide berth.
When I was 14, Dad took me on a drive and stopped the pickup truck across a clearing from a stand of pines. A buck with a huge rack slipped out of the trees and regarded us for a breathtaking, sacred moment before blending back into the landscape.
There’s nothing quite as serene as a deer—seemingly vulnerable in so many ways—standing and watching you, while you watch it.
We relied on deer for meat. Fall brought hunting season, and Dad hunted to fill the freezer with meat to feed our family through the winter. We grew up eating wild meat and Idaho potatoes. Mom knew how to cook it, winning a contest for her “Hearty Venison Meatloaf” recipe. Dad was not one bit behind her; I’d pay top dollar today for one of his venison steaks. (And, oh, how much more I’d pay for one of his hugs!)
Fast forward several decades. Maryland is a real, “Home, Home on the Range, where the deer. . . play.” (Only deer. I haven’t seen an antelope on the 495.) Urban deer graze in woodlands that provide storm drainage and runoff control between apartment buildings and shopping centers. Homeowners grumble that deer eat their tulips, lettuce, and tomatoes—backyard gardens are fenced high! On Cabin John Creek, a sign says that archery season will soon open for deer. It would be a challenge to connect—there’s a lot of brush to shoot through.
When we walk by these deep green groves (soon to change color—I’ll share photos!) I always look for deer. There SHOULD be deer grazing in that deep shade. We’ve seen many from the car, a couple on our walks, a frightened one headed down the road toward the Harris Teeter grocery store, and sadly, a fawn dead on the highway, but I’ve never seen one where they ought to be.
Until last week.
I took the trash out, then walked to the edge of our parking lot for a look into our grove. There they were, almost motionless: a young buck with three small prongs on his antlers, and a young doe with big ears. I watched for a moment, then quietly hurried into the apartment to get the camera. There was no need to rush—they weren’t spooked. They’re city deer, after all, and they let me film their best side for several seconds before melting into the underbrush—another sacred moment, not far from our front door.
In other news: Photos of a fun activity yesterday, 9/24: generous friends invited 28 senior missionaries to sail down the Patuxent River. What a beautiful day, lovely river ride, and great company! Afterward, they treated us to a crab boil and we learned how to break and eat crab--which is delicious. It was a beautiful drive to southern Maryland--lovely countryside with rich history, which we had not seen yet.
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| After the activity, we stopped at a birthday party for Machalia Williams from our ward. She joined the church in May. We teach her on Sundays in Mission Preparation class-often she teaches us. She will be an awesome missionary! |
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