Around the block

Karis and I went for a stroll yesterday. The sun was out in full force, and a chilly, mid-60 degree breeze was rolling off the Trout River. Karis opted for a ride in the stroller instead of working her two always-dancing-and-hopping legs. I was pleased she chose to ride because it meant I could bring my camera and more safely take shots along the way without worrying about her darting off.

As we were strolling along, something caught her eye, and she suddenly began to whisper in hushed tones, like that of a hunter. "Look, Mom, over there!" she said. When I didn't respond, she repeated herself, this time more urgently. I looked to where she was excitedly pointing and saw two beady eyes staring back at us. Two, very fake, completely plastic, deer eyes.

That's when it hit me. This child's only experience with deer have been of the faux variety, sitting, standing, or grazing, completely motionless, in lawns across North Florida. Some are a white, metal shell with tiny white lights to give them shape at night, and others are like this one, plastic all over and a sun-faded brown. And let's not forget the blown up culprits looking like giant air pillows, threatening to topple over at the first decent breeze.

I'm pretty sure she has no idea that deers really exist, in flesh and blood, or that they actually move, without the help of a tiny motor. I suppose it's a price you pay for raising your child in the city. But the irony in all of this, of course, is that we live a mere 3 miles (probably 1 mile, as the crow flies) from the Jacksonville zoo. So lions, tigers, and bears? Totally real. The common deer? Mere yard decoration.