Deer, oh beloved deer, why don’t you show up the nights I bundle up, lace my snow boots, and cross the treacherous ice covered driveway, walk far out there into the dark unknown to place the trail camera “just so” in order to capture your likeness in the dark bitter night?
Don’t you realize how hard it is for this city girl used to bright street lights to walk intentionally onto a dark road. Trained from birth never to walk out of the reach of street lights, I don’t feel comfortable being out there at night. It’s cold, dark, and who knows what lurks out beyond the shadows of the feeble house light. It could be anything, but obviously it’s not you, my beloved deer.
Do you know how much nerve it takes for me to stand my ground and not run screaming back into the house when the dogs growl at some still shadow late at night? That in my mind there could be anything out there. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny, and yes I know that you have spent your life dodging dogs, darkness, and coyotes, but I haven’t.
Oh deer, why can’t you decide to eat the frozen pumpkins and squash we put out for you on the nights when the trail camera is up? Why did you bring a whole herd of your friends, we counted 8 of you through the windows, and there was no trail cam out that night. The joy of seeing you cancelling out the discomfort of our icy toes as we watched your blurry shapes enjoy the feast below. But our regret for being camera less was like a hangover the next morning.
The dogs were wild with joy, over your scent, left behind in the deer prints all crisscrossing the field. Since their barking continued all night, we were both sleepless, and lacking a photo.
So deer, lets make a compromise, you show up at least one of the nights per week that I have put out the trail camera, and we will keep feeding you those frozen pumpkins, and squash.
It’s a really fair deal, and maybe somewhere along the way, I can get over my dislike of the dark.
Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams