What do they make of all this strange white stuff, these delicate young fawns? Only half a year old, this is a radical alteration of their world. Or did their mother somehow prepare them for it when she first sniffed snow on the wind? There are many animals I would like to be, if only [...]
Continue reading...18. December 2008
I never tire of watching the deer herd here. Though we have our disagreements about what is and is not on their menu, I really do love sharing this land with them. And even though this snow is as rare to them as it is to me, they seem undaunted by it. This fine fellow [...]
Continue reading...7. October 2008
As the green grazing dwindles and the forest understory turns in on itself, fades and wilts, agile deer are forced into the ravine to forage. I can hear their feet crunching over brittle madrona leaves and cracking small branches as they browse their way uphill through the tangle of salal, blackberries and wild honeysuckle vines. Which is why I don’t really begrudge them the geraniums and hydrangeas they scavenged from my deck. But my prize rex begonia that I’d grown to massive magnificence—that was heartbreaking to see bitten down to the soil.
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24. December 2008
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