I know, I know. The deer are a menace. We have several neighbors and friends who decry the horrors of deer this time of year because of their infernal appetites. The nerve, the nerve. I get it…but I figure our landscaping effort, in the end, is for our visual enjoyment. It’s not our source of food and anyone who knows me knows I was born to feed people… animals. It gives me great joy.
Our daughter’s favorite way of ridiculing me (still) is reminding me that when she had friends over when she was growing up my routine was the same:
“Hi, how are you?” (big hug)…Followed by…”What can I get you to eat?” Followed by a restaurant-like run-down of the menu du jour…what’s on the stove, in the fridge, what I could whip up…with a feverish focus on comfort foods…pastas and sweets, especially. Alllll the carbs.
I can’t help myself. When I see our furry friends noshing through the hostas, hydrangeas and more, I’m the weirdo who smiles and figures, “we’ll plant more next year“.
The garden got a reprieve earlier this summer when the cherry tree did its job, offering luscious fruit and now the apple tree is revealing its treasures. A little green and less-than-ripe, but if you’re a hungry deer…whether you’re a newly minted buck or a mama with a rambunctious little one…apples in any state of ripeness seem to work. What the deer don’t eat, the bunnies and squirrels enjoy as they nosh on the leftovers that fall from the tree…or from the chompers of the sloppy-eating deer.
We love watching our friends roll out of the field adjacent to our house and we’re grateful they’ve got a comfy little lair. In the early morning, the deer are hard to detect, moving slowly, purposefully as they glance toward the deck and wonder if ‘those humans’ are awake. When we are, we’re admittedly a bit agog, still, after many years of enjoying one generation after another parade past us.
Hubby Paul is only moderately amused by my naming compulsion…the buck is Ferdinand and when I talk to ‘Ferdie’ I swear he listens. Or mocks me. I can’t tell because his face is pretty stoic, TBH.
Mom and baby? I don’t know what to call them. They move so swiftly, perhaps out of necessity to avoid predators (including humans). They haven’t given me enough of a straight-on look for me to contemplate their faces, wonder what to call them.
And so…good day to you…as I share a morning epiphany: I have officially turned the corner into the comfort of not caring what others think as I talk to the wildlife. They don’t seem to mind because they return, day after day, and put up with my gawking…and smiling.
Vicki 😊
Did you miss the introduction to Giorgio, my new favorite feathered friend? Here you go! From My Windowsill – The Heart of the Matter (sharingtheheartofthematter.com)
Victoria Ponders 
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