Seeing Deer
We worship deer and they find ways to thank us
Seeing deer is seeing a lack in the landscape. Where there should have been a thicket across a white trunk, a blur appears and is gone. And yet, the deer's features are imprinted on every surface of the forest, they’re always present. But, at any moment, a deer is a slight rotation away from invisibility: dull sequin, folding light and reflecting their surroundings.
Every sound a deer makes is echoed in the forest around them. Their voice, walk and touch against each other are the creaking, rustling and rattling of a wind through their trees.
The reflections between deer and their environment extend beyond the woodland borders they occupy. The more I inhabit their space the more I see myself reflected in them. The more I see all of us reflected in them.
Where I live, the deer are here because of us. They multiply because of us. We give them our gardens, our trees, and our parks. And they walk at ease across our land because we make it so inviting. Every new planting, every cleared wood is an inadvertent offering. Our roads are endless edges between wood and field, the perfect mix of food and shelter.
And when we build a road, we get an unexpected sacrifice in return. Dropped on the road, our monument to deer, a carcass as visible in death as it was invisible in life. Their flesh spells "thank you" across the lanes we cut for them.
On the Farm
We're rapidly approaching the end of the growing season. In two short months we cut our basketry willow. So far, it looks like the wet spring and our maturing plants will have more than quadrupled our harvest this year.
Meanwhile, we are planning our next expansion. These new Willows will provide shade to the geese, and the geese will weed and fertilize the willows.
We are planting varieties ideal for Willow basketry and resistant to deer browsing. Our fencing keeps most deer out, but the fence itself is another thing to maintain and monitor. The more we grow that doesn't interest deer, the less work we make for ourselves.
The next few months, whatever else is happening, deer will be on my mind. Whitetail bow season started last week. I'm getting a late start, but I'm hoping to be in a tree in less than a week from now.
At our annual Spudfest event, I got to try my hand operating a horse-drawn plow. It was hard.
Since I last wrote, all of the chickens and most of the ducks have since migrated to our freezer. Below is a closeup of our stock pot.
Damn. Joe, that’s some of your best writing man. You’ve got to collect these in a book.
Could you do a story on exactly what foods you know the deer won’t eat? It sounds like by planting certain crops, you feel safe from them trying to move in. Is that right.
Superb writing my friend.