June 24, 2024
Misdirection
We both woke up sore from all the work we had done. My morning coffee was especially delicious, and I sipped it enthusiastically while my wife and I talked on the couch. Today was the first day of her new cardiology rotation. She made a smoothie and got ready for work while I sat down to write. When she was almost ready, I moved her car closer to the front door, walked her out, gave her a kiss, and wished her luck.
After writing, I changed clothes, eager to head out to the new bird feeding station. I knew it would take a few days for the birds to find the area, but I was excited to practice shooting at the new setup. The morning was sunny, and the air was balmy, but it felt much cooler than the temperature spike we had yesterday.
I made my way to the blind, zipping myself inside. I set up a small folding stool which sunk into the ground and a tripod for my camera. Within thirty seconds of sitting down, I felt a tiny tick crawling on my hand. I killed it, but wondered if there were more ticks inside the blind. Luckily, it was the only one I encountered.
While at the location, the sky clouded up and long gusts of wind blew through the trees. I didn’t see any birds, but I still enjoyed the experience. When it was time to leave, I exited the blind and caught a trail to the north end of the pine grove. As I approached the area, I slowed my pace, moving as quietly as possible. Deer frequented this area, and I was hopeful to see one this morning.
Inside the tree line, about twenty yards in front of me, I saw a sudden movement. It was a doe. Even though she was in front of me, she ran north, which required her to pass closer by me before escaping the area. As she flew by, my head turned left to track her movement, but out of the corner of my right eye, I saw something moving the opposite direction. It was a tiny fawn running south, away from me and its mother. The fawn bolted at top speed, running as fast as a greyhound.
I followed the fawn, hoping it would bed down in the woods. I moved south through the grove but saw nothing. When I peeked out into the open field, the doe was standing about sixty yards away watching, waiting. I snapped a few pictures of her and wished her a good day. She looked beautiful in the morning light that illuminated her left side.
I promptly left the area so the doe and fawn could reunite. As I cut through the grove toward my house, I could hear the fawn barking repeatedly, calling out to its mother. It was one of the coolest deer experiences I had on the property. When I got back home, I looked at the doe I shot. It was not Natsu’s mother, who had a dark mark under her left eye. This was likely Roku and its mother.
As I showered and got ready for work, I thought about the encounter. The doe had purposely run closer to me as a distraction while the fawn bolted in the opposite direction. This technique was straight out of a magician’s handbook on misdirection. The entire scene unfolded in a matter of seconds, telling me the plan was either rehearsed or a result of sheer instinct. Whatever the mechanism, I was once again reminded of nature’s intelligence.
A doe will often bark to alert other deer of danger, but this action also causes a fawn to bed down and hide immediately, remaining perfectly still. This morning’s doe decided not to bark, because she assessed the situation called for more distance between me and the fawn. Incredible.
Work today was relatively quiet, although I had a long list of tasks to complete. Before I knew it, it was time for my lunch break. I took my lunch to the blind and sat to see if any birds had found the feeding station. Although it was sunny, I could hear the faint sound of thunder rolling in the distance. Long gusts of wind blew through the forest and it was amazing watching the light patterns created by the clouds moving high above.
While the temperature felt okay for the first fifteen minutes, by minute twenty, I could feel drops of sweat sliding down my back. I heard several birds all around, but none of them landed in the feeding area. Still, the session was a useful practice for learning what I needed to bring for longer sitting sessions. I made a list while sitting in the blind.
When I came back to the house, my wife was almost home. She had a doctor’s appointment today, so she got off work early, went to her appointment, and was arriving home mid afternoon. She was excited to tell me about her new rotation, including that everyone seemed normal and that she would be off on Tuesdays. Great news.
After work, I sat down on the couch to read while my wife continued her studies. At a quarter to seven, we both put away our things and started preparing dinner. This evening, my wife made a garlic pesto sauce with spaghetti, garlic bread, and a salad.
Just before dinner, I went outside and sat on the deck while Kilo and Bodhi explored the yard. While under the pergola, I noticed one of our wren parents was back in its nest. This wren and its mate had two broods last year, producing seven chicks. This spring they produced two chicks, and it looked like they were back for a second brood. As the sun passed below the western trees, the outside temperature on the deck suddenly felt doable.
After eating dinner inside, my wife and I opted to walk a couple of miles down the main road. While our deck, which was now shaded, felt comfortable, the main road was still hot and full of sunlight. Gnats surrounded our faces as we walked, and when we arrived home, we were happy to shower, clean up, and get ready for bed. Tomorrow, my wife would be off work and I knew that would make for a great day full of food and face time.