We are fawned of this time of year.
Very very fawned.
This morning Julia, who has been just wonderful at helping me out in the barn this week while I was lying face down recovering from eye surgery, discovered just how fawned we are.
She walked around the corner of the stable, and there, at the gate to the pasture, was the doe and the smallest of fawns. Julia said "she was so tiny I was looking for the afterbirth. I think she must have been just born."
Mom got the baby up, and they walked away down the pasture. Naturally Julia was holding a pitchfork, not a camera. It is usually that way.
This fawn was one of last year's. For the past three years we have been blessed to have newborn fawns on the property, hiding in our gardens, under our trees, snuggled in our affections. At least until they start to eat the gardens.
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