blog 7 at night

    After dark, the streets of Squirrel Hill quiet down as less traffic travels through the neighborhood. Yellow apartment windows dot the sky. The moon waxes crescent, and tall apartments tower in the distance while squatter buildings line the streets. Through an intersection and under streetlights, I walk toward Schenely park. The temperature whispers spring as the wind echoes winters. Trees lay shadows over lawns of grass, and orange clouds hang above. Lamps line the road, a few cars pass, and down the hill from where I stand, below Beacon Street, three deer smell the ground and forage. I'm surprised, by their location and timing; however, “Movement may occur at any time of the day or night, especially when it's sunny or warm compared with the preceding few days … [Actually,] Nighttime feeding is common” (126)

    One of the deer lifts it head to look at me but goes back to eating. They stand out in the open, in the middle of a wide grass lawn. I've never seen deer after nightfall, and I wonder how common it is for them. In the The Deer Watcher's Field Guide, John H. Williams discusses distribution and activity levels of deer throughout the year, and he says, “It's long been accepted that once cold weather sets in, the deer's daily movements, general travel patterns, and level of feeding activity all decrease dramatically. 'Up to 40 percent' is the figure often given. My observations show that this is a misleading oversimplification” (122). Williams claims there are many variables to deer activity and feeding habits. Cold weather and seasonal changes alone do not deter the deer, he says, but rather, the harsher conditions of strong winds and heavy, deep snow are important factors. The last snow melted about a week ago, and the temperature is higher than the week before.
    “The deer's reaction to snow and cold in late winter is strikingly different from that of early winter … If winter breaks early, the deer immediately become very active and widespread throughout the habitat … Their activity will be spread throughout the twenty-four-hour day, no longer confined to the warmer, less windy times of day.” (126)

    Maybe their late-evening walk through the park isn't abnormal this time of year. Are these deer strolling the neighborhood, exploring their surroundings—like me, out for a walk? John H. Williams says their spring exploration is “a reflection of their curiosity and investigative nature more than anything else. By early spring they've been cooped up in their winter areas for a couple months, and they're trying as quickly as possible to see what's happened to the rest of their world while they were away” (127).

    I sit on a park bench and watch the deer. They pay little attention to me or passing vehicles. They graze and nibble. In the absence of cars, there's a faint crack of teeth crunching nuts. They move forward, they eat. They move forward, they graze around.

    “A couple of decades ago it was common, even in scientific journals, to read that deer were 'browsers' as compared with 'grazers,' but now it's widely recognized that this is highly variable, depending on location … Beyond a doubt, the deer of … any heavily forested region will procure a much higher percentage of their dietary intake by browsing” (144), but tonight, the deer graze on grass, nuts, or forbs, rather than browse for woody twigs or leaves. After the scarcity of winter, they may even be eating soil. John H. Williams has “read that deer and other animals eat soil to obtain needed minerals, but [he's] only witnessed this personally during early spring” (149).
    They graze for quite a while, out in the open, with no hurry. According to Williams, “leisurely feeding is the rule rather than the exception at all times of the year … On many, many occasions, [he's] watched deer feed in a very leisurely, relaxed manner” (147).

    Above the deer, the moon hangs low among orange-red clouds reflecting city lights. Below the dome of orange-red, redwood sequoia office buildings, glaciers of hospitals, and the rock-tower of learning light the dark horizon. Trees, grass, and shadows remain silent as the deer move along. They cross the lawn until they come to sidewalk. The intersection is empty, and the first deer steps onto the road. It startles and picks up pace and jogs across the street. The other deer follow right behind and slip into the tree line. A few moments later, a car through the intersection. I stand up, and walk home.