I was on my way to the bus terminal to head off for another day of work. In the dim, morning light, I could just make out a dark figure several yards up the grassy strip ahead of me. Although I couldn’t see any details, it was clearly a four-legged creature with its head lowered to the ground. Stray dog, I thought. They’re around.

Then, it straightened up and looked at me in a single, graceful movement so familiar and distinctive that it could hardly be mistaken for anything else. I’d seen that movement many times before, in the broad fields near my grandmother’s home, in the swamp near my auntie’s home, and in the mountains that lined the landscape just a few hours drive away. But here? In the middle of the city? Only a few feet away from traffic and smog?

“No way!” I cried out to the empty air.

What was a deer doing way out here?

When I got a few feet closer, the first hints of sunlight illuminated the tell-tale sleek form and prim face. It was a smaller animal, a buck judging from the fine crown of antlers he wore on his head. He was a soft, teddy bear brown.

Actually, it wasn’t that difficult to guess where he may have come from. There is a big park, not too far away, where there are beaver, muskrat, fish and all kinds of birds. Others have told me they’ve seen deer there, but though I’ve explored its paths many times, I’ve never seen a trace of one. Ironically, I had to come home and walk along a busy street to see this one. A little harder to understand is how and why he wandered this far from his forested park to graze by a busy street.

The deer bolted down the green away from me. He thrust himself off the grass and into the air, all four hooves clearing the ground by a good foot. He sailed that way a distance before landing silently on the earth. Without pausing for even a millisecond, he bounded off the earth and was, again, sailing. It was a distinctive gallop that, later, allowed me to identify this as a mule deer.              

He bounded down the grass and around the corner way faster than I could possibly walk, or even sprint if I had been so inclined. When I caught up, I paused and peered down the way he had taken. I had to go in a different direction, so I couldn’t follow, but I could see him at a distance, poking around near some trees. When he saw me staring, he flew back into a full gallop. I watched until he disappeared from sight behind a clump of evergreens.