Natasha has a compost pile near my workshop. There’s also a birdbath, continuously filled by a leaky faucet. In summer especially, various animals come by to eat or drink.
Last spring, a deer and her fawn started coming by. Spring is lush and green and they were very plump. But summers are hard and last four months here. It never rains and everything green shrivels, except the trees. Deer come by with increasing frequency, drawn to the birdbath, a rare source of water in the dry, unending heat.
Mama deer and her fawn come by multiple times a day. I sit outside in the shade, carving wood, and when they come, call out “What’s up deer?”. It lets them know that I’m not hunting them. That I’m not lying in wait.
Over time, the distance between us narrows.
Mama deer’s ribs become increasingly visible. The fawn gets lankier, but still looks healthy.
It’s October 18th. We just got our first big rain a couple of days ago, but nothing has started to grow yet. Mama deer and her fawn come to forage in the compost pile, and she’s practically a skeleton. The fawn is thinner, but still healthy looking.
At the compost pile, Mama deer lets the fawn poke around while she acts as a lookout. I realize that the mother is so thin because she’s been taking the fawn to food and letting it eat first. She’s eating whatever’s left over.
In this way, her fawn survived summer.
Lookout Mountain Studio 