I sometimes wish that I was the deer, knowing what my life was to be, and what to do. As long as I stayed in the "Realm", I would be safe. If I crossed the line I would be in danger of man and his gun or the speed of a car and man's lack of attention.
I could be in the woods during my life with the rest of nature. The song of the bird and the yip of the coyote would be my neighbors, neither of who I would be obliged to converse. No madness of sporting events, politics or religion- the foolishness of cell phones or disasters of the world elsewhere. The greed of man beyond that of food, clothing and shelter.
However, coming upon the gift (of man), the occasional pile of corn or an apple to enjoy. Man is few and far between, at least the dangerous ones. My instints would keep me from most trouble. I would run with my fellow deer when the season was right or follow my own course in the summer, bedding down at night on a hill for observation and a clear get-a-way if needed.
I would eat of the fresh grasses and new leaves in the spring and scrape the snow in winter for the hidden acorn.
I would look up at the cry of a bluejay under duress and the danger warning of the nearby chipmunk.
I would mate with my kind in late fall or early winter and enjoy my young for a year after.
Mother Earth would control our population and I would not take from her more than she gave.
My specie would carry on as long as Mother Earth wanted us-unless man took us first, as happens all too often.