I don’t know why, but nowadays, when I go for a walk, I feel an obligation to post photos on Facebook of the little distractions that catch my eye as I’m walking. I’ll be the first to admit that my photos aren’t Pulitzer Prize-worthy, especially using my antiquated iPhone 6s, but I normally walk for two hours and I think that having my good camera swinging back and forth around my neck would soon become an annoyance.
And yet, I feel badly when I encounter a wonderful photo op and I’m standing there feeling like I’m severely underpowered.
Today, for example, I was walking a trail that wound around several small lakes and through a wooded area alongside a gently-flowing creek. I looked up and saw a mama deer with two tiny fawns on the path just a few yards ahead. They were intently focused on me, their ears twitching, wide-eyed and curious, making several false starts to run away and then hesitating again. It was as though I was the first human they’d ever encountered, a strange two-legged beast from the Twilight Zone.
A few moments later they dashed away into the forest, glancing back over their shoulders to be sure I wasn’t in pursuit.
Well, the trail curved at that point, and the three deer happened to curve also and they crossed the path ahead of me a second time. They stood there, stunned, unbelieving, having encountered an alien creature in their forest neighborhood two times in one day. I could almost hear the little ones saying, “Mom! Mom! What is that thing?!”
Again they plunged into the undergrowth beneath the trees, leaping high into the air with each step.
Now I don’t know if having my good camera would’ve made a difference during that encounter, as I would have had to turn it on, remove the lens cap, focus, and hit the shutter button. That may have been too much activity for them to stand and watch, not knowing if I was a friendly monster or not.