Nature Study

I hauled the laundry basket upstairs and set it on the bed, then moved to the window to open the shade and let in some natural light.  I lifted the window, letting in the cool, misty air.  The children clamored up the stairs as I gazed out, across the neighbor's backyard.  There, a deer browsed the overgrown area near the back fence, her ears pricking at the slightest sound, her body twitching at each unfamiliar noise.  I waved the girls over.  Though we see alot of deer, it's always a pleasure to watch them up close, despite the unpleasant visitors they carry.  I motioned again for them to come nearer, shushing them as they did, and they quietly oohed and ahhed over the deer.  But more wonder was in store for us.  For stumbling through the debris of the unkempt yard was a baby deer, its white spotted back still hunched and stooped as it ambled up to its mother.  It nosed under her, looking for a meal as mother downed a mouthful of leaves.  She nuzzled the baby for a moment and continued browsing.  I guessed the baby to have been only days old, perhaps less.  I snuck downstairs for the binoculars and we watched in awe as mother and baby ate breakfast.  Then the mother jumped the three-foot fence separating our neighbor from the next house, leaving the baby on this side.  The fawn yelped, a sound akin to a party horn blown quick and short.  Then the baby settled into the grass by the fence, concealed by its overgrown length.  We soon tired of watching it sit and went about our day.  But the children requested deer and fawn coloring pages, and we talked at length about Bambi.  And deer ticks.  And lyme disease.  But mostly about Bambi.