Blend

A fine layer of fresh leaf growth covers the ground, hovering at shin height on invisible stalks. I rounded the corner and encountered a herd of doe, half standing above the undergrowth and half tiptoeing over the muddy path that cut through the middle. They froze when I approached, and stared unblinkingly at me; my neon pink shirt reflected in their eyes, a splotch of color growing larger until I was on top of the herd.

At the same moment, all of the split; most retreated back into the leafy cover that hid their hooves and not much more, while two dashed the other way and spilled down the embankment on the other side of the path. They almost made no noise. It's always the chipmunks that make all the noise, scuffling through rotting vegetation that no longer sees the sun.

Somehow, when the deer are still against the backdrop of the rest of the hillside, I cannot see them in my periphery.

01 May 2014 18:51