Wu-men’s words meet Little Crum Creek — what then?

This is the best season of your life.”

This is the season…

This is…

This

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*Quoted verse from Wu-men Huikai, “[Ten thousand flowers in spring]”.

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Here’s how it looks

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to reason with the bucks

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about eating from a garden.

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On the slim margin of Little Crum Creek, few moments, though tender, can be private.

Like last year’s fawn, this summer’s newborn deer waits patiently on a hill under maple shade and weed, occasionally roaming to browse, until momma returns for a suckle and nuzzle in the surrounding sound of cicada songs.

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No doubt sensing the frequent presence of our doe and fawns, a solitary white-tailed buck of November’s rut cruises Little Crum Creek, resting many a morning hour in their well-worn spot.

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By fall, spring’s fawn has well outgrown her coat’s white dots.
But, rarely far from mom and sibling, she still often wears her share of the family’s spot in the sun.

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Small enough to hold in your arms, and barely strong enough to walk, this newborn fawn spent several hours a day recently resting on a bed of leaves … its solicitous mother occasionally emerging from the knotweed.

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 A white-tailed deer doe in the mat of multiflora rose.

  Tracks provide impressions of a presence, in shapes of absence.

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  We have not seen the deer in months, and we know they are near.

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