Brrr. The mornings are getting colder, but not cold enough to discourage the wild life roaming around the park. Maybe they’re like me, determined to enjoy the great outdoors until the winter’s snow puts an end to easy treks through the park.
Whatever the reason, the varmints were thick as thieves along the edge of the woods today. As the sunrise turned the inky black sky to indigo, I spied a fox lounging on the walking trail. Once it spied me, the crafty critter sat up straight, ears pricked up. But it stood it’s ground until I was 15, maybe 20 feet away. Then it rose and melted into the grass beside the ravine. Even if you’d brought your camera today, it’s too dark for pictures, I told myself and walked on without the slightest sense of regret.
A few minutes later, as the dawn turned the sky a watery blue, a pair of deer emerged from the woods to the east and trotted across the path. They crossed the road and stopped, shoulder to shoulder with the tall headstones at the very edge of the cemetery.
This time, I cursed the absence of my camera – and the sore back which has kept me from strapping on its heavy stomach pack for the past few days. When’s the next time the deer will pose in such an unusual setting? I thought. Maybe never.
With great effort, I shook off the should haves, could haves and would haves. Then I turned to the deer, only a few feet away from the path, and smiled. “You’re beautiful,” I said in a low, calm voice. “Thank you.”
They stood still and trembling.
I walked on, shivering with delight.
