I had been on the hunt for months. Each day I went out just before dusk, seeking my target. I had encountered them once or twice, but never really achieving the clear shot I had been working toward.
I had pretty much given up when I saw her.
From the corner of my yard during a typical “just letting my dog out” routine, I looked past the fence and saw her investigating a shrub.
Other than a low fence and some grass, there was nothing separating us. She was fairly stationary and my view was spectacular.
My camera? In the house. Turned off. Probably on the kitchen table, but did it have the memory card in it? I wasn’t sure.
I backed up slowly, executed the quickest quiet walk I could muster across the yard and up the stairs. Somehow, the old metal door didn’t creak, and the heavy sliding door was silent as I slid it to step inside from the screened patio and into my house.
I grabbed my camera ( I don’t remember where it was located or if the card was inside or not at this point ), and completed all the steps in reverse until my view was once again unobstructed.
She was still there.
The second opportunity I truly had to photograph a deer was just as much a surprise to me as it was to her.
It was an early morning and I was out seeking birds. Spring migration was slowing down, but I hoped to capture a few passers-by or maybe a pileated woodpecker that I had seen in the area recently.
Instead, as I rounded a bend in the trail, I spotted a doe resting in dappled sun close to a small run from the nearby creek.
She was surprised to see me but did not take flight. In truth, I think I was spotted too late and we were too close for her to do so.
I slowly crouched lower into a “catcher’s stance” and raised my camera as gently as humanly possible to my eye.
Perhaps I’m the paparazzi of the forest: Gentler, less invasive — I hope — and possibly even more quiet, but I took quite a few shots while staying as still as possible.
Slowly I started to stand to go and leave her in her place of respite, but this time I did startle her, and she ran off gracefully in the direction I was heading.
I turned and returned the way I had come. Her photo session was over, and she needed her beauty rest.
A little over a week ago, I am sure due to the incredible snowstorm that had recently moved through, I was presented with opportunity number three.
Our house is on the edge of a bike and walking path. And sometimes, others like to enjoy the shelter of the trees along that nature trail.
Whenever I pass the double doors in our living room, I look out to see if there are any visitors at our feeders or if there’s any “action” on the path behind our fence.
As I looked out on this day, I noticed slow movement amongst the trees, on the far side of the path. They were hard to see, but I had spotted the legs of two deer slowly making their way through the trees, parallel to the trail.
A few minutes later when I was upstairs, I looked out the window in my bedroom ( I do a lot of peering out in the winter, apparently!) and saw a doe emerge from the treeline to visit my neighbor’s ground feeder filled with birdseed.
She seemed pretty comfortable enjoying her find, so I headed downstairs and quietly went out back and stood on my top porch stair with my camera. As I watched, a second, smaller deer emerged.
I’m not sure how long they were out there, eating as I watched and took photos. They heard my camera — at least I presume that’s what caused them to look my direction — and paused periodically, but I was far enough away to present no cause for alarm and they continued on.
Eventually the smaller of the two was startled by something past my neighbor’s house and leaped back into the woods. The larger deer stayed, and I decided to head in to leave them in peace, unsure if the second deer would return.
Sometimes when we try too hard, when we chase a goal, we fail. Often, the best opportunities await us if we simply slow down (or even stop moving entirely), tune in, and receive them as the gift they are when they come.
I often bird, and “squirrel” — feel free to insert a bunch of other photo subjects here as well — by sound.
But deer?
Despite being many times the size of some of my other favorite subjects, deer are quiet.
And if they aren’t quiet, they are on the move, which presents a new photo challenge to contend with (not only because that movement is quick, but also because there’s a million tiny branches of shrubs, tree trunks, and who knows what else separating me from them.)
I am not saying we stop seeking opportunities or attempting to nudge our good fortune in the right direction; in all of these instances, I was looking out at the world — whether it was over my backyard fence, on a nature walk, or from my bedroom window.
But I do think in a world that is so focused on checking off lists, being efficient and productive, and “chasing our dreams,” we can forget that some of the best things come from standing still, resting, and tuning in to the beauty around us. Not in some distant time or place, but right here. Right now.
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