On the way up to my favorite ridge for morning birding, I caught a glimpse of movement high in a tree and fairly far away. Usually I don't bother when something is that far off in the distance, but I had gotten a late start, so I wasn't going to be choosy. I'm glad I looked, because I faintly made out a male and female Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Two days before she had visited the feeder, and he, just yesterday, when I snapped a few photos of the handsome and colorful dude.
Also, on the way up, I heard a Yellow-billed Cuckoo (yes we have this exotically named bird), a Red-eyed Vireo, Hooded Warblers, Ovenbirds, Wood Thrushes and a Wild Turkey. By 9:30 most of the action had ceased, but I decided that maybe I should just sit for another half-hour. Maybe with all the chatter and fluttering over, something singularly interesting might happen...and it did. Sitting on the same spongy log I perched on last year...when two fawns sauntered by and we exchanged glances...two yearlings walked by again. Did I have my camera? No. But the scene replayed itself. They stopped, looked at me (or towards me), browsed some vegetation and moved on down the well-worn path. I could have stood up, walked three steps, and petted them.What I love about nature is its rhythms and predictability...and also the occasional unpredictable anomaly. While I'm not overly sentimental about deer (i.e., hunting them), any face to face with a wild creature does stir the heart and soul. But this encounter, while rare, is not all that strange. Like most animals, deer have certain territories and ways of getting around those territories for resources and refuge. So if I went up to the ridge every week and sat on my cushy log, odds are I would encounter the same two deer on a regular basis.
I've already been fantasizing about putting a camouflaged swivel chair up there to take in all 360 degrees of bird songs and sightings...so those deer and I may become well acquainted by the end of summer.
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