Among Us

First Glimpse – Photo: L. Weikel

It stands to reason that animals in the wild must be watching us and keeping an eye on our unpredictable movements a lot more often than we realize. They’ve lived among us long enough to know that we’re the dangerous ones. Deer, for instance, have been hunted in our area for untold generations.

Yet deer around here are almost considered pets to some people, while others continue family traditions of hunting and keep their stand-up freezers filled. I imagine it must be confusing for deer. Do they trust these noisy two-leggeds? Or should they bolt, leaping their way to safety?

It’s a decision they make at their own peril.

I think a deep preservation instinct is actually more prevalent in those animals that are a step or two on the wilder side than deer. They’re the ones who only rarely divulge their presence when we’re near them. I’m thinking about the coyotes, foxes, and bears – not to mention owls and eagles.

All Eyes On Me

During my recent walks, though? Oh, my goodness. I’ve been aware of so many pairs of eyes on me! It’s almost felt as though Spartacus and I have been receiving escorts all along our route. Over the past week or so in particular, I can confidently state that I cannot walk more than 100 yards without being able to look carefully around my surroundings and spot a pair of eyes locking with mine.

Just this past week I’ve had at least four extended conversations with young bucks, their budding antlers covered in fur. I could tell by their behavior that they know they’re ‘big boys’ and probably shouldn’t fraternize with the two legged. But it’s my experience that we’re all hard-wired to crave connection and communion.

It’s a delicate balance.

First Glance

Tonight, in spite of the rain that continued to fall sporadically throughout the day, I managed to get in a quick two mile walk. I was surprised to see ‘greeters’ all along the way. I almost felt as though many of them were turning their heads toward me and then gesturing to see if I was still coming along.

A couple seemed to literally play hide and seek with me behind a large tree. That was adorable, but I didn’t manage to get a photo of how ‘off’ they were as far as their body awareness.

Another pair, though, seemed to come into focus for me as I stared at a field I was walking past. As you can see from the photo at the top of this post, one deer was just barely visible to me as I walked past her. I don’t even know what caught my eye, but it did.

She seemed to be torn. Part of her trusted me. And yet…

Coming Into Focus

The second time I raised my iPhone to take her photo, I realized there was another deer standing quite close beside her. Neither one moved a muscle. They knew I saw them, and I knew they knew. As a result, neither they nor I moved a muscle. (What amazes me is what a good boy Spartacus is.)

It felt good for me to discern their presence. In a way it reminded me of looking at one of those engraved photos that reveal other images in them when you look at them long enough.

I may only very rarely catch a glimpse of a coyote or a fox or an owl. But the deer play with me.

While it’s sometimes disconcerting to sense that eyes are on me, watching me, from one moment to the next, I’m mostly comforted by it. I feel as if we humans are mostly woefully oblivious, and my compatriots along our walkway are simply training me to be a better neighbor.