Here's a photo I took one afternoon recently off the back porch:
They barely acknowledged my presence. And moved on.
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I just remembered ...
I had the opportunity the other day of rescuing a fawn from certain doom. I was working at the back of my property when I heard the distinct and prolonged bleat of a young deer. A distressful bleat (you live amongst them and you get to where you can understand the language). I walked about a hundred yards down the old turnpike toSource: From On High RSS Feed
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