Deer hunting season is once again upon us, but I use the word hunt quite loosely. Really, isn’t it more of a target practice? There really is no need for the camouflage, jacked-up 4-by-4s, and so on. The deer on this island are so used to human interaction that they hardly flinch when interrupted, more likely to continue on with grazing on our native offerings and domestic plants. They are a pest for sure; the only solution to stop them foraging on our lovely plants and shrubs is to install a deer fence.

On Friday morning out of the fog near the old Sound Food and Vashon Highway came bursting three deer, two buck and one young one, the larger buck, at least a four-pointer, I had seen before and remembered saying to myself that this majestic beauty has survived at least two or three seasons. Today there was sheer panic on all three animals, not knowing which way to run. I stopped my vehicle to let them cross. The large buck crossed, and the young one followed; the other smaller buck ran back the other way. The utter terror and fear was palpable on these deer; they sense their demise.

I for one hope that beautiful buck survives another season

The New Yorker recently quoted two deer as saying, “Why don’t they try thinning some of their own herd?”

— Martin Haliwell