A Ghost Deer

Tiny rivulets of sweat trickled down the sides of my face and I could feel the same inside my shirt as I stood motionless, waiting, watching.  A massive white tailed deer buck had been visiting the meadow for weeks, but he was shy.  I was determined to take his photograph because no one would believe me when I described him.

I had a clear view of the area where he often came to graze as he watched over his small harem of does and nearly mature fawns.  Although his charges would eat the kernels of corn spread by the automated feeder, he was never tempted.  His tiny band was photographed frequently by the game camera stationed near the mechanical device that spread the temptation, but he always stayed just out of range as if he knew the location of the small, rectangular camouflaged box strapped to a nearby tree.

The long lens of my camera was preset on a focal point far out in the meadow where I expected the forest giant to appear.  I had seen him there from atop the hill, but at almost a half mile distance, I could zoom in with binoculars for a look, but my camera gear was inadequate for the task, or never at hand when needed.  The only way to obtain proof was a closer shot.

The sounds of life surrounding me indicated that my disruption of the natural order had been accepted and as long as I remained still, my presence would be unremarked by the fearful wild creatures that shuffled through the fallen detritus or, flitted from tree to tree and weed to weed.  I had become part of the woods.  Even the dragonfly, which had been darting constantly, found a branch on which to sit and rest, only yards from my face.

My shirt was soaked.  My muscles ached.  My mind was falling into the stupor of near sleep as the drowsy afternoon wore on.  I knew that vigilance was required, but the adrenaline had seeped from my pores and no longer provided the needed edge of hyper-awareness.  The constant drone of insects was lulling me to daydreams which obscured my sight with images generated internally.  Movement was necessary or, I would soon be asleep.

I flexed my muscles as I stood, watching.  Tensing and relaxing failed to relieve the discomfort so I began to slowly twist my body to stretch the aching tissue.  In doing so, I became slightly off balance and took a single step to prevent my falling.  When I did so, out of the corner of my eye I saw the buck bounding away to escape into the dense foliage near a point at the end of the meadow.

It is no wonder he is the king of the woods.  My tiny movement almost 200 yards away was enough to send him racing to cover.  He remained a ghost, not captured by the camera lens.  

(This piece is purely fictional, but contains many elements of reality.  It was inspired by the simple image of the dragonfly and memories of the many deer which visited our meadow.)