Bucks

Sorry to get your hopes up—this isn’t about money. This morning two magnificent Whitetail bucks (male deer) posed like statues in our front yard. They strutted to perhaps twenty yards from the kitchen table where I am writing. After a few minutes (just short of my getting pictures), they vanished into the beautiful autumn splendor of a small adjacent wooded area. What a thrill!

Deer are quite common in our area and it seems they are getting more so each year. Last evening while driving, I had to stop once (and be cautious several other times) because of deer crossing country roads. I often see deer in the fields down the street, especially at dusk and dawn. When we sit in the solitude of our darkened back yard during the summer months we often see deer silhouetted against surrounding lighting as they glide along the perimeter of our yard.

What is uncommon is to see a huge buck (and especially two) at eleven o’clock in the morning in this suburban setting. These were not just any bucks; they looked like Cabela’s trophy displays. I haven’t been a hunter since my early teen years but I had that same burst of excitement. I never saw anything remotely like these magnificent bucks back then. (I guess I can safely use the term hunter because I know it’s proper to call yourself a shopper when you never buy anything!)

This is a season when wildlife is on the move. Yesterday I trudged up a rocky local mountain trail (a hill to you Rocky Mountain folks) to get a glimpse of migrating raptors (birds of prey). I didn’t see any although one gent came down from the same spot and reported to my wife he’d seen four Bald Eagles. I would have traded the two bucks and a few other things to see them. I did see a scavenging chipmunk, if that counts.
As I write now, I see squirrels busy retrieving walnuts and chestnuts to bury in my lawn. The resident groundhog sequestered under the shed in our backyard is now quite plump. He’d be at the high end of the obesity scale if they had a height/weight chart for groundhogs. A large hawk came to within about fifty feet of the kitchen window before he flared and decided to abort his kamikaze dive for some unseen prey. I look forward to offering my wife a dinner of a few overly hungry trout as a result of their seasonal feeding frenzy. Nature is on the move.

It is quite evident fish, fowl, and varieties of creatures are sensitive to unseen forces and respond in various ways without hesitation. Many throw caution to the wind, sometimes to their detriment. Perhaps most apparent are those “brave” bucks that have abandoned any sense of caution to make their appearance in a community of potential hunters. I am sure that there is a “mamma” doe that spent many patient hours teaching them to be extremely cautious, now all to no avail. Unbeknownst to them, there is a pretty high probability that they may be within weeks of their mortality. You see it is no coincidence that hunting season is scheduled when their testosterone is at its peak and they become the most macho. Soon they’ll be sparring with those magnificent six and eight point racks to show their individual prowess. They think their fight is against each other. Their single mindedness in pursuing their own agendas sadly makes them extremely vulnerable.

The whole process reminds me of how vulnerable I am when I respond to some of my most compelling human instincts. I am inclined to step out to handle things on my own because “it feels like the right thing to do” and “I can handle it.” My vulnerability can be deceivingly hidden in this season of life because I am finally “mature” and “seasoned.” Perhaps I should keep in mind that there are new hidden perils. A yearling “spike buck” never seems to end up being taken to the taxidermist for mounting.