Fawns Wandering the Town
Wilderness Near the Car Wash
My wonderful wife, Carolyn, absolutely loves Estes Park. She fully supports my RMNPhotograph Tours and encourages my trips into the park, up Old Fall River Road, and tromping through the backcountry. What she does not like is a dirty car. Because of my treks into the wilderness, our car is always dirty even by my standards.
So one early June evening, I drove over Moccasin Circle Drive, past the hospital and around to the car wash. I diligently cleaned the car to make us both happy, and returned the same route.
Right before the hospital, I saw them. Newborn fawns, tan and spotted, with their mother standing by the side of the road in a neighborhood where locals live. It’s not unique to see, yet it’s part of what makes Estes Park such a special place.
Stopping my SVU in the middle of the road, I cursed myself for not having my camera with me. I almost always have my camera. But not tonight. As I saw these precious babies, still a bit skittish and wobbly legged, I could only imagine what a beautiful image they would be. But alas, no camera.
Arriving home, I grabbed my camera, and Carolyn asked, “Where are you going?” I answered, “Over by the hospital there were twin fawns…” Before I could finish, she waved me out the door, smiling a bit as she shook her head.
Driving around, I could not find the twins. I knew they were close by, around a house, up a street, or lying in the grass, but I could not spot them. As I drove through the neighborhood, I saw another mule deer doe. She was standing in a small, fenced in yard watching me.
Then I Saw The Fawn
I stopped, appreciating her, my eyes searching the surroundings. Then I saw the fawn. A single baby curled in the grass. Her nose was tucked tight to the ground and one ear stood up as if listening. Only a day or so old, she was both delicate and precious.
Staying in my car, not wanting to disturb her mother, I snapped a few images, capturing the fawn’s innocence. Satisfied that I had a good image, I left the fawn and her mother in peace. As I slowly drove away, the doe returned to feeding, strengthening herself after the challenges of just having given birth.
In Estes Park, we cohabitate with wildlife. We watch out for the babies, stop our cars for passing elk, and even tolerate a mountain lion now and then. Here in town, I could be a wildlife photographer without leaving the community. That might save me a car wash or two, but then again, I’d miss the dirt.
