Listening to Deer

On Friday night, Zoe, Gabor and Kata took Sophie and I to the Golden Fields to listen to the deer bleating at sunset. Even Zoe was quiet as we passed by tobacco fields and edged through the thickets and looked out into the long, flat pastures towards a small herd, one buck shouting his dominance towards the west and south while another shouted back from somewhere else, and another.

We also saw and harvested a few otherworldly mushrooms. "I'm a mushroom hunter!" Kata said.

We left beneath a blood-orange moon, sheets of fog rolling in from the edge of the fields.