A Hidden Stag

A furtive movement seen from the corner of my eye as I coast down one of the smoothest portions of the wilder part of my bike trail is enough to make me hit the brakes. I peer into the tangle of bare tree branches and I spy…

First glimpse

He is watching me too, stock-still. He is only about twenty feet away (that’s about six meters, for my foreign friends), but the fact that there are a lot of dense branches and bushes between us emboldens me to back my bike up to a better spot and snap another shot or two. This one’s my favorite:

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Hiding in plain sight

We watch each other for awhile. He’s starting to look kind of irritated, and I’m starting to notice how flimsy those branches between us are, after all, when he loses interest and walks away. I follow him (with my eyes alone, of course. I may be a recently-transplanted city girl, but I’m no ninny) until I lose him amidst the trees. I’m about to ride away when I realize that the trajectory I last saw him on would bring him right out onto the trail where I’m waiting, albeit farther away (which would be far enough for comfort). I decide to stay.

I only have to wait a couple of minutes before my guess proves to be correct, and I am rewarded with the chance to take these shots. Forgive the blurriness, but it’s the best my trusty little pocket camera can do with such a distance to zoom over.

Look both ways before crossing the trail, Mr. Stag

Look both ways before crossing the trail, Mr. Stag

Glorious

Glorious

What a magical moment. I feel like a kid again, all full of wonder. What a gift this ride has been.

I’m glad you could come along.

-Jennifer