The deer diner

I spread out a couple of piles of apples and corn kernels, retreated around a big pine tree to give them some distance, hunkered down and blipped under the branches so I would be at eye level with the deer.

Some people have wondered how I can get so close to the deer. It usually only happens in the winter when the people who walk in the park bring food with them for the littlest deer; and some of them are really small, having been born at the tail end of summer or early in September. Rascaletta, the little deer I have written about and blipped in the past, is the smallest deer this season. She's about the size of a Great Dane dog. In this picture, she is the nearest to me with her tail toward the camera.

When the deer hear voices, they come near to see if someone has food for them. This morning I walked quite a few trails before Rascaletta and a doe appeared in front of me. I spoke softly, didn't make any sudden moves, and held out my hand palm up to show that I am friendly. Today I had a piece of apple on my palm. Rascaletta came close enough to touch my glove with her nose, but she didn't take the apple, so I placed it on the ground. As soon as I started handing out food, nine or 10 does, large and small, came into sight. One minute there were none; the next minute there were a dozen. To me, it is a magical moment, one I'm thankful to experience.

BIG