Close Encounter
White-tailed Deer
A buck in velvet crossed in front of us as we drove the farm road to the lake. He slowly bounded away through the tall, fully-flowered goldenrod until he suddenly stopped and turned. Nose high in the air, he searched for an incoming scent. But with the day ending and a slight breeze behind him, we were able to sit quietly in the truck cab, undetected.
His head moved up and down as if to get a better angle and his ears cocked left then right to discern the faintest of sound. We remained motionless, frustrating him in a passive and inquisitive way. He never stomped the ground angrily like an older, powerful master may have, but instead seemed to smile and want to know us better. He moved toward us in a sideways zig-zag fashion, nibbling on wild morning glories as he delicately closed the distance between us. I could only imagine how the sweet nectar satisfied him. We were much more on his land than mine.
Approaching from the front he attempted to peer through a windshield glazed with a film of crushed bugs and dust, obscuring us and frustrating him even more. Finally, he walked along side, peering through the open driver's side window. He was changing from the summer's red to the grey of winter and his coat seem unkempt. We sat and whispered as he moved near us, bobbing his head and twisting his ears as if attached to some well-greased ballbearing. Sensing our unaggressive nature, he seemed more comfortable, almost attempting to initiate a conversation. Another flower sweetened his inquiry even more and I wished I too had something to offer. We spend so little time coexisting, we humans. I was without a starting point for further conversation. Knowing little of the woodland ways, the frustration grew for me and I realized I should be the first to move on.
We drove on and parked at the lake. Looking back across the high sides of the pickup near the tail gate, he remained nearly invisible with the goldenrod obscuring much of his form. He watched; I watched and then turned away to the orange setting sun over the water. In the quiet and peace of the flat calm, I reflected for a moment and then turned and glanced back to the field where our new friend had vanished. White-tailed Deer #1, 1994, $750