The First Deer and Memories of Feona

We have been rather despondent about the lack of deer in the park. About two winters ago, they did legal hunting of deer in our park. It was a state-run thing to cull the herd, the explanation was that the fear of the "wasting" disease that deer are said to carry, and it was "necessary". But the truth of the matter is, they over-hunted. I'm sure of it.

Dennis, my husband, has had many a mornings where he's been in the park early for his job, and claims he has not seen a single deer. And yet I've seen their foot prints on occasion in our yard, as well on certain paths. So, I know there's at least one around.

Then, this morning, Dennis called me away from doing breakfast dishes. There was a deer out in the front yard. We went into my office, and he pulled up the blinds. I said that the bushes in front are probably hiding it, since he said it was a "small" deer.

We remembered the drought year when it was so dry water was scarce and a female deer heard Dennis watering trees, and came walking up to him, tongue lapping as though she were thirsty. She was. She actually approached him for water and drank from the hose. He later put out a large aluminum pan for her to drink from. We were rewarded by the sight of her, and then later her twins! I named her Feona. Feona was a constant visitor to our backyard because it was safe. She allowed her off-spring to prance, eat and enjoy the safe haven of our yard.

We figured that Feona must have gone by way of that hunting program. I wasn't all for it. I thought that it was an excuse for hunters to not just cull the herd but maybe collect trophies.

But here we have a new deer. A very small one, possibly a first year female, from the looks of her. I hope to see her again and figure out a name for her.

Danelions ~ haiku

Danelions

Golden dashes, bright

yellow butter cups, some folks

hate the sight of you.

published in 2004 Weeds Corner

April 18, 2012

The blue sky became clotted with steel-blue and gray clouds. Winds out of the south-west had warmed our temperatures up to 70 degrees. My walk began in the backyard, where my husband, Dennis mowed a path behind our pine trees and cut through long grass and back behind the lilacs in front, by the road.

But I cut across the long grass to the ditch and was into the park within moments. The large mower's engine creating a din. I waved to my husband who was working on the front area of Afton. He clips and saws low hanging branches as he mows, either to keep from having branches try to take his head (or glasses, hat and head set) off, or to make the park presentable. He has been doing this job for 17-going on 18 years. He is the one  you can thank for keeping the park looking the way it does.

I cut through the unmowed area, my feet shuffling through dandelion fluff as I went. Eventually my path wound back onto the gravel road which winds through the park. My destination was to get to the wetlands, south of the last bridge in the park. A trail winds through areas which is made up of various vegetation, and overflow for the wetlands. Here, the frogs sing constantly. Red-winged blackbirds perch, make their calls and watch me warily as I pass. Upon seeing me, the frogs become silent. I move on. the sky has become nearly all cloudy. Winds diminish as I walk along this path which has the old nursery that has over-grown. They used to mow down each row of trees, but quit mowing some years back. Now it's quite wild.

I make my way out of the wooded path and find the wetlands moderately choppy. At once I see a squad of ducks (no binoculars today), take off, as a marsh hawk sails across the edge of the water, breaks low as the ducks land in water by a lone Canadian goose that is poised in the shallows.

The marsh hawk continues on its quest across the prairie grass. I watch an American Coot all by itself seeming to bask in the fact that he has no competition for food.

I slowly emerge onto the open path and, my knees complaining, I walk the uneven ground slowly as I begin the upward climb of the hill toward the barn. Blue flowers growing in clumps are the only color along here. I don't know what these flowers are--five spot? I don't know. I pick a cluster for later identification.

Clouds are thick, darker and the wind still blustery, and yet warm as the wind continues out of the southwest.

I gain the house and am happy that I was able to get out and enjoy a portion of my day outside.