I live in Jasper County, the Deer Capital of Georgia. It's particularly obvious this time of year. When I ride after work in these waning days of Daylight Saving Time, there may be a little sunlight when I start, but it quickly diminishes. It's the time for crepuscular creatures, like deer. (Crepuscular is one of my favorite words. If you don't know what it means, look it up.). It's magical.
I meant to write about this last week, but I'm super busy with work and other commitments right now. However, when I had another magical crepuscular ride tonight, I wanted to remember it with a blog entry.
Tonight I didn't count the deer, but I did on last week's mixed surface ride. Last week I counted 17 deer during my 14-mile ride. There were probably a lot more that I simply didn't see.
I'm always amazed at how well the deer blend into their surroundings. Their brownish grey matches tree bark and the deepening dusk alike. There ought to be a name for that color; I'm sure some paint company has thought of that.
I find myself keeping alert for movement in the shadows. It's like the cycling version of Where's Waldo.
Deer # 15 and 16 still stand out in my mind from last week. It was just getting too dark to see. Those two deer were obscured except for the outlines of their white tails. As I rode down the road, their tails bobbed along parallel to me like silent phantoms.
Add in a waxing, gibbous moon; the scent of fresh pines; late-season crickets; the gold-then orange-then pink-then purple sunset; and the relative warmth before way-down fall sets in - that's a recipe to cure whatever ails you.
No comments:
Post a Comment