When the Beauty Comes, Trust Returns, Too

Green and quiet is the word. In the Pennsylvania north woods, the animals can relax, now, they are safe from the dangers of the human gunners. No more sticks that zing from the trees, no more men and women in pumpkin suits tramping through the woods looking to take a doe or buck. Even the Coonies left to get ready for the line that moves in the nearby village, where the pretty humans sit and funny-like noises come from the moving shinny things.

But the big ones still advance carefully at night, the sounds of gunfire ringing in their ears. They cover the forest by keeping hidden behind trees. They've seen their brothers and sisters fall to sudden sleep just after the smell, the thrashing noise, the movements, and the booming sound that can come again and again.

Eventually, the big ones move out in open areas when daylight comes. They begin to trust their instincts given to them over millions of years. For Mr. Terry's Neighborhood is their home, where they will live and die.

The gentle deer begin to trust, too. Missing many of their relatives when summer arrives, they begin to fatten up on available food. The buck's antlers begin to grow, which draws the ladies, but also draws the fire from the men and women in the pumpkin suits. Near the zinging season, the bucks will rub the velvet off their antlers and prepare for another genocide season.

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