Autumn is definitely riding the mist into the mountains. The leaves are beginning to turn and, in the case of the poplars, already fall. The days are still warm but the nights are clear and crisp. The resident deer have lost their fawn-colored summer coats and taken on a darker hue. They’re hard to see against the browning ground.
This year the deer spend time in the back yard without having to worry about a dog. We’ve been dog-less for a while now, and we’re looking for a pup. Likely deer vote “no” to a dog, but they have no say.
Without the dog we’re often not aware the herd of nine deer have arrived. Time was the dog let us know in no uncertain terms we had trespassers. Now one of us slinks to the window to peek out. Deer are skittish creatures. If they see or sense movement, they vanish like wraiths.
Being up early today, I sipped my coffee and watched for the herd to arrive - graceful shadows in the pale dawn light. Someday soon I’ll share my spot with a young dog and point the deer out to him.
Will he find the “critters” as fascinating as our beloved Lab did? I’m betting yes. Will he ever catch one? I very much doubt it, but he’ll have fun trying.
And I’ll be reminded of past autumns, and other deer and dogs, and know this is where I belong as autumn arrives.