In Their Voices
At some level, I’m vaguely aware of my human vocalizing loudly and frantically, possibly something about how he’d like me to stop or come back. Hard for me to pick out the nuances of such aural stimuli, not when it’s being eclipsed by the olfactory Hallelujah Chorus emanating from the shrubbery ahead.
It’s coming into focus as I approach, and it is GLORIOUS. Deer have been making up for a winter of bark and buds by hitting the emerging greenery like mammalian weed whackers, and pooping it out as fast as they take it in. The deposit up ahead has been ripening for a while, 10 days, two weeks … Goldilocks, baby, just right.
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