The Vanishing Tribe

  Two years ago, we saw three does and their four yearling fawns roamed the neighborhood as they always did, following their habitual trails up from the valley, boldly gleaning twigs, rose canes and compost. Then, just before Easter, we witnessed something rare and inexplicable. It started with three does hurrying down the road in front of our house on a grey, cool Sunday morning. “Come and see,” I told Barry. “They look so purposeful,” “There are more,” he gestured. …

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