A very fawn story...

A very fawn story...

This tale is from June 17, 2017:

I saw a fawn today, gingerly crossing railroad tracks and descending into bush.  Pay dirt!  I swapped in my telephoto, made sure all my camera settings were optimal for a low-light bush scene, and began the hunt.  I moved slowly but steadily towards the fawn's last known location, but before I could spot it, it would bolt from one hiding spot to another.  This happened a couple times more, until finally I slowed down to a crawl.  I then spotted it peeking at me from the bush and a standoff ensued.  Both of us were stuck in a frozen pose, the fawn on an uncomfortable slope, me with my eye glued to the viewfinder.  A few shots of foliage-covered-fawn-face are fun, but not great.  Each time I'd even lean in its direction it would tense up.

Foliage covered fawn face

I was reminded of some advice from a friend we affectionately call "the Donite".  Not verbal advice so much as observed way of being.  What would a Donite do?  A Donesian would talk to it.  A Donerheisenschmidt would understand, if you act suspicious and all sly, it would know something is up.  It has ears the size of your head, it can probably hear your adrenal gland and how much it's pumping.  A Donerwocky would engage in some jabber, as if to say "I see you, and you see me, ain't that cool, and did you know that white pine is the sign of a good campsite?"

With all this rattling through my brain, I slowly put the camera down, pretended nonchalance, and stretched a bit.  An itch had been driving me nuts, but I hadn't dared to scratch.  Now I scratched.  The fawn could relate:  up came a hind hoof to scratch its neck.  It made a few steps towards me.

Do I look tasty?  Is this a rare carnivorous fawn?

I casually snapped a few more shots, and scratched again.  It was like magic communication:  each time I scratched, it made a few more steps out of the bush.  Finally it trotted over to me, gave a little bleat like a baby goat, sniffed my outstretched fingers, and pranced a couple feet away.

Sniffing fingers.

You're not my mama.

What...are you?

I got a few more shots before a cyclist came by and it bolted again.

Deer does what deer does best.

The lesson is clear:  if you want to make wildlife feel comfortable, be comfortable.  Stretch, and scratch yourself.  Act like a Donite  :)

Swallow Tale

Swallow Tale

Road Trip - April 2017, Part 10

Road Trip - April 2017, Part 10