Deerweed

Beyond the house whose basement I occupied for three years in Victoria is a small green space. Formerly a green way, there are now fences on both sides that limit the movement of the deer that frequent the area. Abutting the back of the house’s yard and along the far edge of the space are blackberry bushes. The side directly across from the yard is the back of a small grocery store that seems to make most of its profits through selling candy to kids from the nearby elementary school. The last edge is a public pathway.

The green space is really just a small grass field. Occasionally somebody cut the grass, but most of the time it was just overgrown with weeds and, at the right time of year, oodles of dandelions.

As the gate into the house’s yard and, ultimately, my front door, faced directly onto the pathway, I walked said pathway almost ever single day (except that one day, when there was too much snow). I’d often stop and grab a handful of berries to chew on, even though classically I’m not a big fan of berries. It was also common for me to run into deer hanging around the space, chewing the grass, and trying to break into peoples’ gardens.

I remember one particular occasion when I found myself in the midst of some sort of deer feud. Six deer of various sizes were standing around glaring at each other, occasionally one would take a run at one of the others, although the never seemed to have any major collisions. Interesting was how utterly unconcerned they were with my presence, in other words: they just ignored me, to the point that I had to leave lest one of them should accidently run into me, which was a valid concern because at least two of the six definitely outweighed me and there were antlers involved. Personally, I have no interest in being gored by a deer; it just sounds painful and embarrassing.