Tempus Fugit

A northerly cold front has pushed battalions of massive white clouds across blue skies for the past 2 days. Its southerly flow will cause a stiff head wind for northbound birds. They’re well beyond the way stop refuge of Hideaway Pond now. On their own. The annual challenge of long haul avian fortitude.

Meanwhile, Mother Nature has created a confluence of some of her finest weather with the full bloom of wild iris and lilacs. Peonies, rhododendron, and lilies of the valley are ushering in the final strains of Spring *sob*. Tempus fugit.

Even the Hideaway critters are reflecting the change of seasons in their behavior. The deer, in particular, are more giddy than I’ve seen them since rutting season. Ok, mea culpa. Should have averted my eyes.

Four young does jumped out lf the woods last evening, ran the full length of the property and back. Warp speed. They then repeated this foolishness three times. At first we assumed that they were running for their lives from a squadron of the notorious flesh easting Catskill deer flies. However, we finally concluded that they were merely playing out the last girlish refrains of youth before assuming the burdensome mantel of adult doe-hood.

The usual menu of local deer society has generally been limited to the grass and weeds that grow between the ledge and the edge of the pond. During the last 2 evenings, however, a solitary four point buck in velvet has jumped to the top of a small outcropping on the front of the ledge. He has apparently found a stash of some very appealing nourishment in the cracks and crevices thereof. Liken? Moss? Psychedelic mushrooms? Nah. Still, who knows! He was a little bit blurry in long distance photos. And I still suspect that his mother may have had an illicit affair with a mountain goat.

This afternoon, his antlered excellence finally favored us with his regal presence. He suddenly materialized at the side of the pond nearest to the porch. There he waded and fed on pond side vegetation. One could see clearly the velvet that covers and feeds nourishment to his growing antlers. The two nubs at the end of each “spike” will be clearly defined as points once the velvet dries and falls off. Or until he rubs it off on a tree or other solid object in the woods. Hopefully, no one we know. Full and final affirmation of his royal buckness.

However, his testosterone will wane in January and melatonin will take over. His antlers will become brittle and fall off. Oh woe. 😞However, in March or April Mother Nature will begin the inexorable process once more. Oh joy. 😁And every year thereafter. Thus, the Sisyphean life of the regal, though hapless buck. “Uneasy lies the head that wears a” rack. 😕

Editor’s note: Please forgive the poor quality of the attached photographs. Most were taken from a distance and in poor light. They were edited with little success. The reader’s indulgence is duly appreciated. 🤓

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