There was calmness in the deer’s eyes, a calmness that spread across its oval face. The deer stood there, staring at me. There was a hint of curiosity, but no fear, no alarm. The deer’s face had a softness about it, as soft as the September foliage, turning to faded greens and pale yellows.
I was on a morning run on the Wild Rivers Trail, at a point where a path drops gently away from the trail for 40 feet before opening into a meadow. As I ran past this narrow corridor, in my peripheral vision I saw a deer, facing the trail from the far portal. A strand of old, smooth fence wire drooped near its knees.
It was a doe, no doubt intending to walk from the meadow to the trail, but stopping when it heard me, then saw me. I knew what to do next if I wanted a photo. I ran past the opening as if I hadn’t seen the doe, then stopped behind cover.
I didn’t have my long-lens camera, so readied my phone camera and tip-toed back to the opening. In these cases, the objective is to get a quick first photo before the animal bolts. It won’t be the perfect photo but good enough for a memory.
I eased into the opening. The doe was still there, attentive to my presence but showing no alarm. I began positioning for better photos, putting myself into clear view. The doe studied my slow approach.
For what seemed like several minutes, I alternated between baby steps and pauses, coming closer and closer to the doe. It simply stared at me with large, pensive eyes. I was within 10 feet of the deer when it slowly turned sideways, walked a few feet into the meadow and began eating leaves off an aspen sapling. It chewed while nonchalantly looking at me.
I walked toward it again, within five paces. The doe appeared healthy, the hair on its plump body beginning to take on a darker autumn hue. I was quite sure it was a yearling; it was too big, its body too mature, to be this year’s fawn.
How does one explain calm encounters with wild animals? Was the deer simply curious? It had surely encountered humans before, but perhaps had never felt threatened by them. For whatever reason, I posed no danger to the doe.
In his book “Within These Woods,” author Timothy Goodwin writes about a healthy young deer that adopted the family cabin as a place to eat corn out of family members’ hands. It had first appeared out of nowhere, nudging at Timothy’s father from behind.
Folks who believe in “spirit animals” say that deer have a strong spiritual connection, allowing them to be aware of the subtle energies happening around them. In this belief, deer are attracted to people whose spiritual centers are giving off vibrations of gentleness and compassion.
That’s nice to think. As I stood in front of the doe that morning, I wondered: Could I actually touch this deer? I only wondered. I backed away, not wanting to unsettle the gentleness of the moment. The doe ambled among the short saplings. I walked back to the trail and continued my run.
Note: Want to read more nature essays like this? My book, “Soul of the Outdoors,” is available through online book sellers, and at Wisconsin bookstores in Rice Lake (Old Bookshop), Eau Claire (Dotters), Menomonie (Dragon Tail), Hudson (Chapter2Books), Spooner (Northwinds), Bayfield (Honest Dog), Three Lakes (Mind Chimes), Stevens Point (Bound to Happen), and in Duluth, Minn., at The Bookstore at Fitger’s.