This is why I take walks. . .
This is the outfit that let me stare at a deer for twenty minutes without spooking her. . . . Yes indeed, and right out in the open too! I had taken a nice walk in the cool autumn wet and was on my way back when I noticed that the sky was periwinkle in the south. I have hardly ever used that word, but it was the only one that fitted that lovely sky streaked with creamy clouds. I went up on the ridge of the line-fence and leaned on a moss and lichened post. I was determined to gaze at that sky good and long, because I couldn't secure it with the camera whose battery was dead. After a minute, I suddenly realized that there was a White-Tail doe in the bean field between me and the sky, and not very far off either. I froze instantly, but the doe was far from running away. Almost at once, she turned full around to look at me, and we looked at each other for several minutes. No doubt she was endeavouring to discover what sort of creature I was. One of those clumsy bipeds apparently, quite unnaturally standing still.
Then, to my surprise, she started to walk toward me. . . maybe forty steps, until along with her eyes and nose and large ears, I could see her tongue flick in and out. The doe turned then toward the corn field on my left. . . slowly, stopping to peer at me, twitch her tail and bob her head. At last I discovered that these gestures of tail and neck probably had not been meant for me, but for the tiny ears I saw poke from the beans, or to the creature that owned them. Yes, a fawn! A late one most likely, small enough to hide all but its ears and nose in the bean field as it came up to its mother. Doubtless this was the reason the doe had not sheered off more quickly, yet even now they seemed in no hurry to leave. The mother nibbled at the plants, and then looked up to watch me; the fawn watched and followed its mother. They started meandering away, taking their time, but keeping an occasional eye on me. Even once they were over the horizon I waited a little to make sure they were gone. I looked at my watch and I had been standing there for fifteen or twenty minutes!
Doesn't that look like Sherwood Forest? I bet a few merry-men would fit in those vines...