Ode to the Fox, but then the Deer

I was running down Shaw Mountain Road last night, coming down out of the foothills. As I was nearing Reserve, another street, off to my left down the hill a bit were three good sized whitetail deer. The deer were all doe, and they were eating or rummaging for something.

Whatever the case, while not the most majestic deer I have ever seen, there they were. As I ran towards them, they maintained their position eating. They did so until I came within about ten-to-fifteen feet of them, and they then ran. Their tails were as white as could be, and it was quite joyous to be running in the city itself, seeing such wild and business-as-usual animals doing their thing.

Similarly, up and down the same foothill I run for my weeknight runs, I heard coyotes howling on Saturday morning last week. These are things with which I grew, but to have them back again is so nice. I know I write often about being closer to the outdoors, and I suppose much of that is predicated on that being closer to my life now than it has for a while. I cannot complain, not by a long stretch; however, it is even something of which I am self-conscious. It’s quite odd how vibrant it is, but how delightful and enjoyable.