[...] So on this particular Saturday, I wasn't paying much attention to the beauty of the place I call home. Silly me. As I made the turn into our drive, a large buck broke out of a small stand of trees on the corner of the neighbor's property at the end of the drive, and ran directly in front of my car. I didn't even have time to hit the brakes before he slowed to a trot, pacing my car down the expanse of lawn between me and the trees. He was big, with racks of at least seven points, and he exuded good health and raw power. If I had thought to open my window and stick out an arm, I could have touched him.

He paced the car all the way to my house, and darted into the trees only as I reached my own driveway. I stopped the car before completing the turn, and watched him standing just inside the tree line, looking back at me over his shoulder. Neither one of us moved for a long moment. Then he turned and began picking his way through the trees, daintily, head high, taking his time. [...]