Thinking Fella's excellent diary about getting close to a deer, and the discussion in the comments, got me thinking about my experiences with deer. I live in the DC area, where deer have thrived recently thanks to the eradication of their natural predators, laws against hunting, and the human creation of vast lush arrays of ideal edge habitat.
I have deer to thank for bringing me into wild places, 10-15 years back, when I made a gradual life decision that I wanted to be closer to nature, despite being stuck in the city. I started leaving the paved trails that ran through the local parks, started following increasingly narrower trails through the stream valleys, and realized that I was following the deer.
When I was younger, deer were always a moment of awestruck wonder, amazing graceful beings that came out of the forest. I didn't see them often, and when I did, I wanted to be closer to them. I particularly remember a moment on Skyline Drive, in Shenandoah National Park, when habituated deer approached us for food. I found the moment amazing, and at the same time knew it was wrong.