The Yearling

My dear friend Johnathan came to visit me this week at the park.  I only have a few days left of my internship, and I'm so glad he was able to come out and enjoy some of the beauty with me.

We were hiking Devils Garden when we both experienced another one of Nature's remarkable moments.

Devils Garden, like the Windows, is definitely one of the busiest trails in the park.  However, we found ourselves almost completely alone throughout our hike to Double O Arch and back.  We were enjoying the views and the stillness, but at the same time I wanted us to get back before sunset.

I tried to quicken our pace slightly.

As we bounded up and down the red rock fins, joking and singing goofily, we suddenly were stopped dead in our tracks.  A group of mule deer were grazing in the middle of the trail.

In the middle of the trail!

One of the most frequented sections of trail in the park.

There they were.  A buck, two does and a yearling.

They put some distance between us, but we remained frozen and watched.

Barely breathing because of their proximity.

As we stood and watched them, the buck retreated to a higher vantage point and never took his eyes off of us, while the does, and especially the yearling, returned to their late afternoon meal.

Slowly but surely the yearling moved closer and closer to us, nibbling on some of the black brush and service berry branches.  He chewed the leaves.  Looked up at us.  Moved closer.  And found more branches to try.

All the while, the buck stared us down from a distance.

Johnathan and I sat down on the rock.

Still.

The yearling eventually crossed in front of us, only about fifteen feet away.  It was nothing for him.  He didn't care about these hikers, or perhaps he wasn't yet old enough to know about the dangers of man.  He just chewed his food and walked past the awe-stricken onlookers.

The two does followed.  A little more cautiously and a little further away.

Then the buck.

Hesitant at first, he approached our position very slowly.  He stopped before fully committing, probably thinking to himself, "They do not know about man.  I have lived long enough to become wise, and I know these men cannot be trusted."  But because the rest of the family had already crossed, he could not let them go ahead unprotected.

Johnathan and I again held our breath as the large animal passed before us, swiftly and gracefully.  We both knew we should probably avoid making direct eye contact with this dominant creature, but we could not resist.  We both looked directly into his dark eyes.

Mesmerized.

His cautious run quickened to a thankful retreat as he ducked below some juniper branches avoiding entanglement with his large antlers.

He rejoined his family and hurried them along over the fins and out of sight.

Johnathan and I looked at each other and let out a sigh of relief and amazement.

We were astonished and thankful for such a sincere moment in Nature.

A moment of surprise as we came across the herd in the first place.

A moment of wonder as they didn't retreat out of sight.

A moment of innocence as the yearling crossed before us fearlessly.

And a moment of respect and admiration as the buck reluctantly trusted us enough to rejoin his small tribe.

Moments like this do not occur everyday.

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On another note, the Fiery Furnace is a great place to reenact scenes from Lord of the Rings.

Enjoy.