The small herd of eight deer slept most of the morning near my deck, camouflaged by old arbor vines. Around noon, they roused and grazed in my neighbor's and my yards.
It's hard to remember that these particular deer are two of many plaguing Sewanee and not the living embodiment of a mother's care. I see them and can't help thinking about my own family's mothers and mothering.
I admire such dedication and the source of the powerful instinct.
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