The two mature does and three fawns I’ve seen often, were back again this morning. Our blind overlooks a grassy waterway with a CRP field on one side and new wheat on the other, and the five grazed peacefully on the wheat. I guess the crisp air and the warm morning sun caught up with the little fawns and playtime ensued. For a few seconds they pranced and skipped around like we’ve all seen baby calves and lambs do, then the chase was on. Full-bore across the waterway they sped, those already full-sized characteristic whitetails sticking straight out behind them as they ran. Into the CRP and around an old brush pile they bounded, then back across the waterway and into the wheat field, where the one mother doe watched stoically, as if attempting to be the adult in the room. A few nibbles of the new green wheat plants, then off they were again.
I was treated to this show for half an hour. Sometimes, once around the race course was all they managed before a snack. Other times, they tore around the course two or three times, maybe even changing directions, before stopping for a break. Some races they sprinted as hard as those little legs would take them, other laps around the “track” seemed like leisure jaunts, as if they were cooling down. I guess I had never considered that young deer would interact with each other like baby farm animals, but why not?
Opening morning of this year’s deer season I was entertained by a nice buck that mingled with the same group of does and fawns. He singled out what I’m sure was one of the fawns and wouldn’t leave her side. Another small deer stood-off from the rest of the group, and only with binoculars could I see that it was a small buck with an equally small pair of spike antlers. Each time “spike” accidently got too close to the little fawn the bigger buck would chase him off; the poor little guy just wanted to eat too. The lengths to which the bigger buck would go became hilarious, sometimes running fifty yards to chase the little guy, as if he was ever a threat.
This year, with plenty of venison still in the freezer from last year, when Joyce and I both harvested deer, I’m waiting in hopes of snagging the big-antlered buck that runs our area. That’s quite unlike me, as I’ve tried cooking those antlers numerous ways and it just never works. I have a pellet smoker now, so if I get him this year, maybe I’ll try smoking them. Anyway, when the morning show had ended, and the five had sauntered-off to find suitable beds to rest for the day, I packed up and headed for the truck.
A pair of cardinals I see most mornings greeted me from their perches in a scrub tree just outside the blind. I want to talk to anyone who can honestly think that the vivid, radiant deep-red plumage of a male cardinal just happened by chance and was not purposely painted that way by God. After a few steps into the field, the raucous, raspy scolding of a couple blue jays broke the morning calm. For as noisy and obnoxious as blue jays are, they too are robed in great splendor. Geese carried-on overhead as they headed off to find breakfast. The “mooing” of cows asking for their morning chow seemed to come from all directions. A huge river of blackbirds as seen this time of the year is called a “murmuration,” and one had landed in a tree along the woods. Hundreds of bodies turned the top of the tree black against the morning sun, and their noisy chittering and jabbering was almost annoying.
If I manage to harvest our big buck this year, I’ll be blessed to be able to give venison away to people who need meat. If the buck eludes me, I’ll still have been blessed more than I deserve by what God has shown me through His magnificent Creation. Continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.
Steve can be contacted by email at [email protected].
