Sunny River Writings

Fall had arrived. The air was crisp and cool, the sky grey. There was no breeze on this particular day. The leaves were falling and most forest plants had dried up and turned brown. It was a pleasant day for hiking through the woods.

The trail I chose that day was not a long one. It was about a mile from the head of the trail to the lake. The terrain was easy, the path well used. I was alone. It was a day for wandering instead of hiking. To me wandering is to walk at a relaxed pace with no particular goal. Hiking on the other hand is to get from point A to point B with a time frame. As I was saying, today was a day for wandering.

Plants in the fall and winter are very interesting to me. Many change so greatly they do not resemble the plant they were in the spring and summer months. There color is gone, they have dropped their petals or shriveled up. They are colorless and brittle.

As I wandered down the path I was enjoying the simple beauty of each plant. They are so fragile. I had just begun to amble on when in the distance I heard twigs cracking and leaves crumpling. The sound was getting closer, louder. It sounded like something running through the thick of the woods. I stood still on the side of the path. All of a sudden a doe burst across the path with seven bucks in hot pursuit. She was so intent on escape and the males so engrossed in capture they did not notice me. They were heading in the direction of the edge of the woods, toward the cornfield and road.

I was delighted that I had experienced nature, I was thankful I was alone. If the trail had had several hikers the course of the deer may have altered.

I continued my wandering feeling very content. When I reached the lake I spent time watching for activity on and around the water. After a short time I headed back the way I came. Still in wandering mode I slowly made my way down the path. Watching the squirrels do their gathering, listening to the birds flit among the tree tops.

I was just rounding the last turn in the trail when once again I heard something running through the woods. This time it wasn’t moving as fast. And it was coming from the opposite direction as the deer had come a while earlier. Unsure what it was I decided to step out of the path. I moved in between trees that formed somewhat of a circle. I had no sooner taken my place when the bucks returned. This time they stopped about twenty-five feet from where I stood. They formed a circle all facing the center. They began charging at each other, taking turns. They looked as if they were playing or practicing their jousting. Several had antlers the rest had nubs.

Their game lasted what seemed like twenty minutes, but was probably only five. The young bucks were in rut. This was so exciting. I had learned about when deer are looking for a mate. I have seen confrontations on wildlife videos, but to be in the lap of nature, to experience first hand a natural part in the life cycle of a deer is an incredible thing.

As many events in life, everything happens so quickly. After the bucks ran off, my head was filled with wonder. Questions tumbled over and over. What happened to the doe? What exactly were the bucks doing when they circled up? Is that a part of a ritual when a buck gets his doe – do the others celebrate this mating?

I was in awe at the fact I was within eyesight of my car and yet so removed from civilization to be caught in the middle of a deer adventure.

Lowell Park trail Dixon, Illinois