As I come around one corner and near the massive school complex, I see a deer. Certain that it will have gone into the woods by the time I inch up to it in my car, I am surprised to find it staring at me from about forty yards.
"Hello," I say casually as I stop the car for a better look. I roll down the windows slowly. "Hi, sweetie," I sing from my car.
The deer seems to be unconcerned with my presence. As soon as I speak, the deer stops in its tracks and stares at me. It stands there, rapt in my conversation, even when I threaten it with my cell phone camera. I snap a few pictures, even at a distance. I continue to take photos and chat smoothly. The deer, in return, waves its stubby tail at me.
Finally, after about a minute or two, I say out loud, "Well, I have to get to work, deer. Thanks for hanging out."
With a shake of its head, the deer turns and ambles down a long, freshly mowed path toward the soccer field far below my school and I turn my car into the parking lot, both of us getting back to our too-early day.
