Black-Tailed Deer

"In the thick woods between camp and the river, among tall grass and fallen pines, I discovered a baby fawn. At first it seemed inclined to come to me; but when I tried to catch it, and got within a rod or two, it turned and walked softly away, choosing its steps like a cautious, stealthy, hunting cat. Then, as if suddenly called or alarmed, it began to buck and run like a grown deer, jumping high above the fallen trunks, and was soon out of sight. Possibly its mother may have called it, but I did not hear her. I don't think fawns ever leave the home thicket or follow their mothers until they are called or frightened." John Muir, My First Summer in the Sierra

Though I didn't try my hand at snatching up the fawn, I did get close enough to snap a decent picture. Of course, getting within this proximity is probably a million times easier to do now than it was for John Muir, as the deer in Yosemite Valley (where this photo was taken) are that much more accustomed to human presence and free snacks these days...

It's taken some self-persuasion for me to think this way, but this animal's occasional interaction with humans does not make the black-tailed deer any less arresting or thought-provoking. For some of us, it takes discipline to stop viewing wild yet available animals as being boring or unfit for observation. For me that was always critters like blue jays, ground squirrels, and seagulls; I used to ignore them, but I'm just now learning to see all of them, along with black-tailed deer and humans ourselves, as an equally intriguing and integral facet of wilderness as are mountain lions and humpback whales. And it's precisely this kind of poetic prose from John Muir that conveys such a regard and wonder for all creatures...

"A fine specimen of the black-tailed deer went bounding past camp this morning. A buck with wide spread of antlers, showing admirable vigor and grace. Wonderful the beauty, strength, and graceful movements of animals in wildernesses, cared for by Nature only, when our experience with domestic animals would lead us to fear that all the so-called neglected wild beasts would degenerate. Yet the upshot of Nature's method of breeding and teaching seems to lead to excellence of every sort. Deer, like all wild animals, are as clean as plants. The beauties of their gestures and attitudes, alert or in repose, surprise yet more than their bounding exuberant strength. Every movement and posture is graceful, the very poetry of manners and motion. Mother Nature is too often spoken of as in reality no mother at all. Yet how wisely, sternly, tenderly she loves and looks after her children in all sorts of weather and wildernesses. The more I see of deer the more I admire them as mountaineers. They make their way into the heart of the roughest solitudes with smooth reserve of strength, through dense belts of brush and forest encumbered with fallen trees and boulder piles, across cañons, roaring streams, and snow-fields, ever showing forth beauty and courage. Over nearly all the continent the deer find homes. In the Florida savannas and hummocks, in the Canada woods, in the far north, roaming over mossy tundras, swimming lakes and rivers and arms of the sea from island to island washed with waves, or climbing rocky mountains, everywhere healthy and able, adding beauty to every landscape,--a truly admirable creature and great credit to Nature."