APPLES AND THINGS "DEER" TO ME

Then came the fall when our entire county went into a frenzy of activity. The reason? HUNTING SEASON! Everyone had to "bag a deer" and the most wanted ones were the bucks. Their desirability was rated on whether they had a full set of antlers (a "rack") that was undamaged by fighting, falling, or anything else. Obtaining a buck with a full rack was a priority for people who wanted to show off their hunting prowess, because the deer's entire head could be cut off, sent to a taxidermist, mounted on a wooden plaque, and hung up to stare at by all who visited. A classmate of mine in high school shot a buck and his proud parents hung the poor thing over their fireplace! Hunting was such an important part of life for male high school students that the principal of my children's school released a warning that anyone absent on the first day of hunting season would be suspended. She tried, but with fathers eager to take their sons out on an expedition, the result of the ban on cutting school was ineffective. If Dad cut work, son cut school.

I remember taking a drive one bright autumn day on a road that cut into the Windy Brow tract. As I was enjoying the warm sun coming through my windshield, I suddenly noticed a very large buck with a full rack standing under an apple tree. My car was too quiet to disturb him, although I sensed that he also heard the muffled sounds of shotguns. It was late morning and I passed by a group of men wearing hunting clothes. They were apparently finished for the day, and their guns sat silently by their trucks. Their hunt had produced no mantelpiece trophy that day, and they were commiserating over that fact. Had they gone just a little farther they would have had their buck. But did I tell them about it? NO WAY! The noble steed would remain my secret.

Deer were plentiful that season. On another occasion I was driving back home when I saw a very large buck in a field next to me. It was running toward the road, Toward me; toward the car; this was on a country road with no other traffic. Instinctively I hit my brakes, hoping that it would continue on its present course when CRASH! It hit directly into the front of the car. Almost as if it was aiming at me, the deer smashed into the front where the retractable headlights sat. Only then did it continue running, never looking back at my crumpled car. Now what? Do I call the police? Offer to trade drivers' licenses and insurance cards with an animal? When I got home I described the incident to my husband. He tested the headlight to see if it could still be used. It made scratchy noises and groaned when I tried to turn on the headlights, but it still worked. I thought about making a sticker saying "the buck stopped here!".

Here at Tangled Oaks there are deer. Since my house sits flat to the ground I seldom see them except for the day I was walking Skittles and Patches on the side by the well. There, like an apparition, suddenly stood about 5 of them peering out of the tree line. When the dogs caught sight of them, the chase was on and the deer quickly scattered back into what had been the corn field that borders our house. When the barking subsided, I remembered my husband saying that he had seen deer where those had been. It made sense: empty cobs left after harvesting made good food. Another food source was my orchard's remains after I harvested the fruit. One of my neighbors, whose house sits higher up than mine, told me that the deer had been grazing in my orchard. He has a few apple trees too and makes cider out of the fruit. But he also gathers the "drops" to bring to a wildlife feeding center somewhere. That impressed me. While men in New Jersey were killing deer, this man was feeding them!

I remember one particularly hard winter back in New Jersey when the deer could find no food. They were roaming out behind the back fence looking for anything green to eat, but to no avail. My husband suggested getting some "salt hay" from a feed store and putting it out just beyond the fence. Leftover greens from our dinner salads would also be welcomed, I thought. But one night we awoke to a noise that sounded as if it was right outside our bedroom window. What could it be? The cats were all inside either the house or the recreation room where we had a pet door. And it wasn't a meowing sound, or a barking either. The raccoons that frequented the front of the house were very quiet as they stole the cat food that I forgot to bring inside. Likewise, the skunks (although I could easily determine if the visitor was a skunk…by the smell!) So what was this thing that seemed to be pawing at the garden under our window?

Finally curiosity got the better of us. My husband got out of bed and walked around to the front door where he quickly turned on the light. There it was: a hungry doe had found the remains of our summer plants and was using her hooves to uncover them. Being caught, she quickly ran away. But after her visit we decided to find some suitable food and leave it at the side of the yard by the trail.