This afternoon I saw a ragged-looking fox making off with a fat squirrel
between its teeth, and then, not ten seconds later, a stately, six-point
buck walked slowly across the yard.
Later, when I was double-digging another bed in the garden, the buck
returned. He didn’t seem to care that I was there, so we both kept on,
he about his business and me about mine. I did notice, though, when
he pushed his head against the bird feeder, tipping it to pour
seeds into his mouth.