It happened again – another Marlin Perkins wildlife moment – near the same place as before on the walking trail. This time six deer, almost within touching distance, moseyed across the path near the little stream that runs through the cemetery and the woods. So there it was, the shot of deer I’ve been aching to capture for years, so close it would have been a fabulous shot, even without my telephoto lens. But because of my sore back thing, I was once again cameraless.
Sigh.
But it gets worse. (Or if my camera had been at hand, better.) The deer weren’t one bit frightened by a human presence. They didn’t bother hiding in the tall grass. No, they started grazing on the slope beside the walkway. Such a charming tableau, six deer nibbling at green grass beside the flowing, burbling stream, with an old stonework culvert as a backdrop.
Double sigh.
But it gets worse. (Or, to an equipped, think ahead photographer, even better.) Two of the deer, perhaps slightly unnerved by a whiff of female human stink, got up close and personal with a dainty doe. In the blink of an eye, they sipping mama’s secret recipe, warm and fresh from the spigot.
Triple sigh.
But it gets worse. (At least for Mama Doe.) Her two tipplers were not tiny, sweet spotted fawns. No, they were old enough to be spotless. Tall enough to look their flesh and blood faucet in the eye. Mature enough to munch grass after their little drinky-poo. Close enough to adult status that by the time I can lug the camera around, they won’t be nursing any more. As if I could ever get this close to six deer again. Which will never happen.
Quadruple sigh.
So my latest Marlin Perkins wildlife moment will forever be an in-the-moment moment.
The great shot that got away.
My personal digital fish tale with no one to collaborate or deny the story.
But it’s way worse for that poor doe, nursing teenage twins too lazy to pour their own milk and chop their own lettuce. Poor thing!
I wonder, do deer sigh?
