It’s mating season for white tailed deer and Mr. Eight-point, the buck on the scene with my local herd, had a challenger. Mr. Six-point came along prospecting for the last of the fallen crabapples. It’s hard to tell from these pictures, but in real life he was clearly the smaller of the two. Nevertheless, when the older buck showed up the younger stood his ground. They bowed their heads and engaged, as I watched from my window.

I would call it locking horns except they were deer, so they were locking antlers. They seemed intent on the process, until a car came down the street toward them. Then they broke off the tussle with one accord, watched until the car was past, and went right back to it.

There were no running starts, just a walking approach to each other, entanglement, and some pulling up and back that looked pretty indecisive. They engaged, disengaged, and engaged again. It was slow, even stately, and went on for ten or fifteen minutes, and then it was over. 

Mr. Eight-point rejoined the does and fawns, who were off under my neighbor’s trees practicing their Christmas Sleigh Procession technique, totally ignoring the fight, or argument, or whatever it was, between the males. Mr. Six-point lingered under the crabapple tree for a few more minutes, saving face, then wandered off into the woods. How civilized, I thought, but considering how civilization is doing these days, the bucks were ahead.

By now the sun was setting, giving good evidence for the advantages to deer of being crepuscular. There’s a latecomer doe in this photo, but she’s hard to see. I didn’t know she was there when I took the photo – just a photo of a nice sunset – until she emerged from the skirts of the evergreens and trotted off to meet her kin. Startled, I checked the photo and yes, she was there all the time. My eyes were on the sky. You can only see what you are looking at.