An Urgent Interruption On Two Wheels
A brown doe charged out of the brush and pressed its flank within inches of the bicycle’s spinning front tire.
The cyclist clamped both hand brakes, planting her running shoes onto the damp asphalt as the handlebars wobbled to a halt.
Instead of darting into the safety of the trees, the deer pivoted on the pavement and fixed its gaze on the woman.
The animal turned its snout toward the embankment, took three deliberate bounds into the dense ferns, and stopped to look back over its shoulder.
The cyclist dismounted, setting her bike aside near the edge of the pavement before stepping into the rough grass.
Her shoes sank into the spongy moss as she pushed through the waist-high foliage, following the path the animal had just opened.
The doe maintained a short distance ahead, breaking twigs underfoot and parting the green sword ferns with its chest.
Every few strides, the adult deer stopped beside a tree trunk, twitching its ears backward until the sound of the rider’s footsteps drew close.
The Dark Opening Beneath The Roots
The doe came to a complete standstill beside a massive evergreen where the earth had eroded into an open pit.
The cyclist ducked under a low branch and leaned forward to peer into the shadowy gap between the roots.
The mother deer stood mere feet away on the muddy incline, shifting its weight from hoof to hoof while pointing its snout downward.
At the base of the trench, two feet below the surface, a tiny fawn sat wedged tightly against the dirt walls.
The fawn pressed its miniature hooves against the loose soil, slipping each time it tried to gain purchase on the vertical drop.
Its oversized ears swiveled toward the human standing above, its pale spots dusted with loose brown dirt and pine needles.
The adult deer watched quietly from the rim, its nostrils flaring as cool air moved through the damp ferns.
Lifting The Trapped Fawn
The cyclist dropped to one knee on the damp soil and stretched both arms straight down into the hole.
She slipped her fingers gently around the fawn’s ribcage, feeling the rapid, rhythmic thump of its heartbeat under the thin coat.
Bracing her forearm against an exposed tree root, she scooped her second hand under the fawn’s hindquarters to secure its footing.
The fawn remained still, offering no struggle as the rescuer slowly drew it up out of the dark depression.
Standing back up on the slope, the woman eased the fawn forward until all four slender legs touched solid ground.
The mother took a step forward instantly, nudging her muzzle into the baby’s neck and side.
Her tongue worked quickly across the fawn’s spotted coat, clearing soil from its ears and smoothing down the ruffled fur.
The cyclist withdrew her hands, letting them rest at her sides as she watched the pair from a few inches away.
The fawn gained its balance on the uneven forest floor, pressed its shoulder tight to its mother’s flank, and turned uphill.
Side by side, the doe and her fawn walked away into the shadows of the tall firs, their tails flicking as they vanished among the mossy trunks.
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