Either winter’s being stubborn or spring’s being coy. Haven’t figured out which yet. We’ve had snow in a couple parts of the state, though not here. Definitely looks like spring, feels like November. I’m feeling a day late and a dollar short myself, but that’s not unusual.
It’s also not unusual for deer to pass through our upper terraces on their way up the northern ridge, and even not unusual for a few to flake out and chill on the first terrace. We’ve had a whole herd up there before more than once, just taking it easy. Yesterday was a little unusual, though. Just two. One of them was a young buck. When I say young, maybe a yearling, with two tiny little buds for antlers. He was resting comfortably when his mom—my inference, but pretty sure I’m right—came up, and after a little motherly grooming, kicked him in the butt to get him up and moving. Tough love, I suppose, but it worked.
Anyway, maybe there was a point to it. Do what you have to do, regardless of circumstances. I’m repainting the bathroom, even though it’s been raining for a week. I’d rather it was nicer, less humid weather, but it has to be done, and no point waiting. So like a little buck kicked in the butt, I’m not waiting.
Good thing to remember. Young bucks become old bucks, and no one has forever to wait around.
Things to do.