About a week ago, I read a post called “They’re back” by a blogging photographer that I follow, Maralee at Through my Lens. Maralee lives in central Oregon and had posted over the summer about a lame fawn that was staying in her yard. It was a beautiful tale of nature. Maralee watched the doe and sibling come and go as they checked on the little lame fawn. Eventually the fawn was able to walk well enough to go with them.
I commiserated with Maralee because I had been posting about “our” lame doe here. I haven’t seen her since early August when she froze beside the drive, her two fawns curled on the grass and a buck nearby as our son and his family from St. Louis arrived late at night, their headlights illuminating the deer family.
For the three years we’ve lived here, “our” doe has come through our yard on a regular basis with her fawns in tow—until this August.
This spring we noticed that she was walking with a limp and had a visible lump on the bottom of her foreleg. (You can see it in the photo above.) I worried about her health and safety. Then when she virtually disappeared from our yard for nearly three months, I feared the worst. “I think she’s dead,” I told Mark.
But she was back today.
Where are the fawns? I wondered.
I stepped outside to release a flying insect that I caught in our kitchen, and I heard a loud rustling in the fallen leaves in our woods. You might be surprised by how loud little squirrels can sound as they scurry along, but this was exponentially louder than that. Then I saw a yearling fawn burst out of the trees and run along the creek.