The white-bodied, brown-headed deer, still young, lately seen wandering the woods with two adults who are probably very worried about its fate, not aware that with no hunters and no wolves its chances are pretty good.
Jack-in-the-pulpit, growing in the center of an old gravel road. On a different day my son Ben and I cut off the trail to bypass a family who were walking at their toddler's pace and stumbled across more than 20 of these blooming in a boggy patch.
One of the minor oddities of our patch of woods is a nearly perfect half circle of stones, laid out no doubt by teenagers past for reasons of either boredom or witchcraft. Since my teenage son Ben was dressed that day in his black bathrobe (as he often is) it was a good time to pose.
And back home, two adult rabbits who were gamboling around the yard like little bunnies, oblivious to danger, no doubt preparing to make the next generation.
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