This is a photo I took this morning of a rather tame deer grazing near my home in the city of Greater Victoria in British Columbia, Canada. I love that deer roam freely here. For over a decade now, I’ve gathered many fond memories of encounters with them. I’m ever respectful of their nature and benign energy.
I grew up in a small town in Northeastern Ontario. My relationship to deer, moose, partridge and ducks was different then. Deer head trophies of a buck and doe rested above the fireplace since before I was born. Family members and friends traded hunting and fishing stories as normal conversation.
The wilderness was our preferred ‘grocery store’. I learned to hunt partridge and fish at a young age, as did my siblings. We hunted for food, not sport. (I personally regarded sport hunting as barbaric.) Now I rarely eat meat at all.
I never saw my Mother use a rifle but she was skilled at archery as a hobby using paper targets. She used that skill to save my Grandmother from attack by a rabid fox once.
Our parents taught us about foraging for food and other wilderness survival skills as part of our lifestyle. I do all my shopping at the grocery stores now, but I’m grateful for life skills learned long ago. One never knows if they’ll be needed again.
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