Into the Woods, 18: Following the Deer (Part I)
Into the Woods, 20: Following the Deer (Part III)

Into the Woods, 19: Following the Deer (Part II)

Deer in Glen Etive, Scotland

This Isn't Happiness by Myeongbeom Kim

How to See Deer
by Philip Booth (1925-2007)

Forget roadside crossings.
Go nowhere with guns.
Go elsewhere your own way,

lonely and wanting. Or
stay and be early:
next to deep woods

a leaping roe deer

old illustration, artist unknown

tiny muntjac fawn

White-Tail Fawn Reclining by Mark Rossi

inhabit old orchards.
All clearings promise.
Sunrise is good,

and fog before sun.
Expect nothing always;
find your luck slowly.

deer in morning mist

Deer On the Isle of Arran by Barbara Brassey

A Forest by Flora McLachlan

Fawn by Kiki Smith

Wait out the windfall.
Take your good time
to learn to read ferns;

Young Deer by Nicky Clacy

White-tail deer and fawn

Young Deer by Franz Marc

make like a turtle:
downhill toward slow water.
Instructed by heron,

drink the pure silence.
Be compassed by wind.
If you quiver like aspen

Deer in Ocean Surf by photographer Connie Cooper Edwards

Deer by Juliana Swaney

trust your quick nature:
let your ear teach you
which way to listen.

White doe

White Fawn by Kelly Louise Judd

You've come to assume
protective color; now
colors reform to

new shapes in your eye.
You've learned by now
to wait without waiting;

roe buck

Nature Girl by Christina Bothwell and Queen of Beasts by Fidelma Massey

as if it were dusk
look into light falling:
in deep relief

Out of Narnia by Su Blackwell

things even out. Be
careless of nothing. See
what you see.

Go here for Following the Deer: Part III

Deer by Akitaka Ito

The Low Edge of the Storm by Catherine Hyde

The deer imagery above is: a photograph of deer in Glen Etive, Scotland; "This Isn't Happiness" by Myeongbeom Kim; photograph of a leaping row deer; an old illustration of a leaping dear (artist unknown); photograph of tiny muntjac fawn; "White-tail Fawn Reclining" by Mark Rossi; photograph of deer in the morning mist; sketch of deer on the Isle of Arran, Scotland, by Barbara Brassey (1911-2010); "A Forest" by Flora McLachlan, "Fawn" by Kiki Smith, "Young Deer" by Nicky Clacy; photograph of a white-tail deer and fawn; "Two Deer" by Franz Marc (1880-1916); "Deer in Ocean Surf" by Connie Cooper Edwards; "Deer" by Julianna Swaney; white doe photograph; "White Fawn" by Kelly Louise Judd; roe biuck photograph; "Nature Girl" by Christina Bothwell & "Queen of Beasts" by Fidelma Massey; "Out of Narnia" by Su Blackwell; "Deer" by Akitaka Ito; and "The Low Edge of the Storm" by Catherine Hyde.


Terri, I may have mentioned before that your site is doing nothing for my carefully nurtured middle-aged male cynicism, but that photo of the tiny fawn cupped in a pair of rather gnarled hands, has completely destroyed all vestiges of grumpiness. It could take days to get it back!

P.S. Just been panicking...let me explain: I seem to have made a career of inadvertently offending people throughout my life, so just in case the hands in the photo of the tiny fawn belong to anybody who is known to anyone else who reads this blog, please change the word 'gnarled' to 'strong and capable'. I think the phrase is more appropriate anyway, and they present a perfect juxtaposition to the delicacy and fragility of the fawn.

The first time I saw a deer, it was when I was 16 and in Key West. A cool, salty breeze, long shadows in the dark, and I was sitting on a porch, and then I saw them. There were one or two every evening during my stay, and Key West deer are tiny, so they were magical, fairy deer to me.

The next time I encountered them was in North Florida, where they are considerably bigger and more skittish. I had strange hours at my job those summers, occasionally I'd be waking up for work at 4 am, or walking home from work at 6 am, and that's when I'd see them. Loads of them, on the edge of the forest, with the sharp orange beginnings of sunrise upon them. They'd sense me from a long distance before I could get anywhere considered close to them, and then they'd bound away.

Deer are considered common here, and stupid, because they're the hunted, because they haven't adapted to the labyrinth of highways that cut into their homelands. It angers me, sometimes, that their grace, their quiet, poised power, their gate-keeping of dusk and dawn, between the civilized and the wild can be so ignored, not seen nor acknowledged.

P.S. I adore this series.

I saw a doe and a fawn yesterday. The doe was so small that for a moment, I thought of them as older and younger siblings.

The first time I remember seeing a baby deer was when my husband and I were camping in the Rocky Mountains near Estes, Colorado. I was born in Brooklyn, raised in Queens, NY. So the sighting of the fawn resting in the rocks near our campsite was surprising and endearing. Now, I live in Upstate New York where every drive is a country drive, and the main driving hazard is avoiding hitting the deer! These Deer Images are each impressive in their own right; put all together and illustrating the poetry...very inspiring. Thank You

p.s. "You've learned by now to wait without waiting".
I love that line...a personal practice and joy of mine when I remember to do it!
Thanks for the reminder.

Ah... I'm with you Stuart the tiny fawn in those strong hands has just melted my heart

"their grace, their quiet, poised power, their gate-keeping of dusk and dawn, between the civilized and the wild"

Raquel, that's a perfect description.

Thank you so much for these lovely deer stories!

Me too.

and me!

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