Martha's Refrain:

My husband wouldn't kill a fly
It isn't that he doesn't try---

I think the deer have nought to fear
----------------------


About flies, I had missed the last 6 that I tried to kill; some problem with
incoordination, apparently. Then I got lucky and killed one this morning.
They were getting quite bold. I have to admit that the cool fall weather may
have something to do with my success this morning. I have even been holding
the swatter part with one hand and carefully lining them up before letting
go, and I still miss! Maybe if I had a telescopic sight on my flyswatter?

We have been playing a lot of scrabble lately. Hunting for words, I call it.
Problem is, my search image has to change after every play.

Yesterday I went hunting for a mule deer buck or a two point bull moose.
Search images in place, I left home at 10 (an hour recommended by my friend
Ken), after having searched the Globe and Mail for anything that might match
my stock search image. No dice there.

I went first to that little bog near Webber Lake, where I found the big bull
moose last year. There was no moose in residence, only a freshly vacated bed
in the long dry grass. Next, I looked for last week's lynx at Paynter Creek.
He wasn't home either. Finally, remembering the large herd of mule deer that
I saw on Mount Swite the last time the I hunted there with Ken, I headed
that way.

From the lower part of Hidden Creek road up to Michelle road, I walked a
trail with Samba, looking carefully for deer and moose along the way. Sure
enough, we found a large group of deer in the forest--but the problem was,
they found us first and were on the move when I saw them. I couldn't tell
whether any of them would match my search image. I wouldn't have mattered,
as they were only dark moving shapes among the trees when I saw them.

On our return along the same trail, we came upon a doe and her two large
fawns. One of the fawns took alarm and bounded off but the doe came mincing
forward to better see the danger. Samba, as always, just peered out at her
from behind my leg, making not a sound. Satisfied that we were not good
company, the mother took her children in tow and all bounded off among the
trees.

A bit later, I saw a low-slung brownish animal loping away from the trail.
In all probability, it was a coyote but by the way it moved, it could have
been a wolverine. Samba didn't see it but when we got to that point on the
trail, she stopped stock still and just stood there looking at me, as much
as to say, "Don't you know that ------ was here? It must still be nearby!"
She, with her acute sense of smell, would know what it was. But for me, the
animal is still a mystery. Two days earlier, there were 4 inches of snow on
the trail. Now, however, after almost continuous rain, the trail was
bare--the ground too hard for tracks.

Two snowshoe hares made up the complement of animals seen along that trail.
But in total yesterday, we saw some 20 mule deer. Only the last two, seen on
our way home were known to be bucks. These moved from the darkness into the
beam from our headlights as we neared the houses and orchards at the base of
Mount Swite. Both were young forkhorns.