This past mid-October, I’ve had a daily afternoon visitor: this rib-cage showing, adult female deer who — and I’ve witnessed it — is still nursing two larger fawn.
There’s an oak tree in my backyard and acorns galore on the ground. That’s what brings her and her fawn to fatten up in these months before winter sets in.
I understand deer — especially deer without large predators to keep their populations in balance — are quite destructive to ecosystems, so I’m not going to get all sappy about her survival, though, as we’ve become part of each others’ lives of late (I’m usually sitting on my couch, looking out the large glass windows that lead to the lake beyond), we see each other, and I wish her well.
I mean, some of her species will survive the winter; some won’t. Perhaps she’ll be among the survivors, though I can really see how nursing her fawn has sapped her own body mass.
The drive to procreate, to protect one’s progeny.