Deer in winter

Real Winter™ has been pretty elusive this year, but in the last week it's been here in good form. Right where I am there is about a foot of snow on the ground, and the temperature has remained in the teens and 20s. We've had a few really beautiful days, but all have been good. I've been out during most of them, for at least a good walk.

Not far outside my door.

On Wednesday I decided to take a nice, long walk, in one of my favored spots. I started out following my cat's tracks until they intersected with those of a dog. It looked like my cat then started jumping in and out of the dog's tracks. As they diverged, I followed the dog's out near the road, and then parted ways. I got across the road and into the field, then just kind of picked a direction and went with it. Last winter I followed some coyote tracks to a deer carcass in the area, so I headed in that direction to see if I could find their tracks again. I did not, so instead I just started following the deer trails. At one point I thought to myself It would be nice to see some deer today.

From there I just kind of wandered aimlessly for a while. In one spot where I almost always hear birds I remember thinking that it was strangely quiet; this was because, as I soon found out, my hood was simply blocking the noise. Not far from there I thought I saw a deer "flag," so I stopped. I took my hood off, and sure enough the sound of several birds greeted my ears. I stood still for several moments before my the deer confirmed its presence when I saw her walking broadside to me in the distance. She had to have been 200 yards away, and even though much of the time walking I had my eyes toward the ground—following trails, spotting deer lays, etc.—the unmistakable flag of a whitetail caught my eye. This is actually one of those awareness moments I'm proud of: walking along, not really paying attention, and I still sensed her at long range through the woods.

So my intention, wanting to see a deer that day, was met. I wanted to follow her for a while, so I did. I found her tracks in the snow, and since she was alone it was easy to trail her for a while. Before long, though, her tracks came to an established trail; it was more difficult to follow her then, but not too bad. Her tracks were headed one way while the rest on the trail were headed the other. But she brought me into more and more dense woods, along more and more well-traveled trails, until, finally, she lost me.

Having a feeling of fulfillment—not from having seen her again, but simply from having been brought on this little journey, only to have been outwitted by the wily deer—I decided it was time I could head home. By this time I had been out for perhaps an hour and a half, and I was starting to get hungry. So I started to move along more briskly, generally in the direction of home (but also in the direction I was already traveling—and thus the deer was traveling).

Before long I again sensed movement in the distance, so I instinctively stopped and dropped to my knees. This time my hood was removed, and I had heard nothing for quite a while; the birds hadn't given me away. After my silent, unmoving moments, several deer made their presence known, this time about 50 yards away. They kept looking in my general direction, but I don't think they could actually spot me. They were wary. At first I spotted three. After a little while a lone bird behind me, to the south, presumably gave away my position. Immediately after it made its alarm call the deer scattered about. I counted eight at least, but knowing and witnessing how hard deer can be to spot, I suspect there were more.

I got the sense that the first doe I found led me right into her sanctuary! The woods in those parts get more and more dense, with a lot of young firs obscuring the view, and a little swampy. And, from their experience, I'm quite sure they rarely see people out there. To them, it was probably like I walked into their living room.

The deer are amusing, clever creatures that I will probably never learn enough about. But just by seeing them, following them, and trying to share the woods with them, I'll continue to learn loads.