Nasty as the day had been, I knew that the evening would be magical, as the creatures came out from their shaded haunts to feed. That's how it works. The nastier and hotter the day, the more delicious is the evening time. So I made an early dinner and asked Bill to join me and Chet on an evening hike down Dean’s Fork. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to see what was out there. It really was all I wanted, to go down Dean's Fork, for once, with a witness. The last time I'd had a witness with me was mid-June, when Phoebe and I had our incredible journey. I knew there would be powerful magic there this evening. It was my birthday! How could it not be magical?
I hadn’t been able to see its pink toes when it was in the meadow! What a beautiful little thing!
I was intrigued by the white tag end of its tail, seemingly an afterthought, the white hair being of a different texture and direction than the black. How cool!
One has six points forming; the near one’s antlers look like a simple lyre. I’d guess these bucks were born last spring; that they’re in their second year. They’re thin and slab-sided; they have yet to develop the musculature of a mature buck.