On my walk yesterday morning, I encountered the deer that gave Deer Isle its name in the town cemetery. Perhaps a half dozen deer were there, grazing among the headstones and picking at some of the planted flowers and shrubs. The deer herd seems to have kept largely to the wooded area behind the cemetery this summer, much to the relief of gardeners and flower lovers across the island.
The deer noticed me before I noticed them, and all but one promptly headed, with leaps and bounds, back into the trees, disappearing with a final flash of their white tails. This deer, however, stood its ground and stared me down as I took its picture. Because I didn’t want to recreate scenes from When Animals Attack I promptly took my leave. As I walked down the road, the deer kept pace with me for a bit, as if to show that he wasn’t afraid, and then finally turned and headed into the forest.
It’s nice to know that there’s a tough guy keeping an eye on the town cemetery.
