Oh, Deer!

Jackson spotted them first, or maybe, he smelled them. Anyway, he alerted me to the deer's presence, just a few feet away, on the other side of the ditch.

I had driven about a mile from home, past the landfill, to the small parking area next to the bike path that skirts the east side of the National Park land. We had left the house a little later than I planned, so the sun had disappeared behind the Monument before we started walking on the path.

It was a beautiful, still evening, right at dusk. I was hoping the light would hold out until we made it back to the car. I was hoping, too, to spot some wildlife of the four-legged kind--I can do without rattlesnakes, thank you very much!

The lingering sunset, on the north edge of Scotts Bluff.

We met a couple of other walkers on the path, with their black lab, but otherwise, Jackson and I had the path to ourselves. I snapped way too many sunset pictures. On the way back, we crossed over to the alley that borders the bike path, to get just a little different perspective. We hadn't gone far when I noticed an animal climbing a tree in someone's backyard, right next to the alley. At first, I thought it was a squirrel, but it wasn't the right color. As we drew closer to the tree, I was excited to see a black opossum gazing back at me. Opossums are shy, gentle marsupials who can eat thousands of ticks a day, so I'm always happy to have them around. This one appeared to be quite young, perhaps on his own for the first time. He posed nicely in the tree while I took several pictures. Jackson didn't make a sound. 

This opossum was a cooperative model.

It wasn't long before we crossed over to the ditch bank road, which runs parallel to the bike path. The ditch was full of water, as it is supposed to be this time of year, offering life-giving moisture to the adjoining, green field. I spotted a lone skunk, skittering its way through the alfalfa to get a drink of water from the irrigation pipe. He was on the other side of the ditch, so I wasn't worried about getting sprayed. Perhaps I should have been more concerned, since he "assumed the position" once, briefly. Jackson and I stayed quiet and kept on walking, so the skunk continued about its business without incident.

This was a skunk on a mission, following the irrigation pipe to find some refreshing, cold water.

As we walked along the ditch, I was thankful again for that century-old irrigation system that makes farming possible in our valley. There's a good reason this area was once called the Great American Desert.

From left to right, you can see the ditch bank road, the ditch, the bike path and fence, and Dome Rock.

Straight west from the ditch bank road, Scotts Bluff National Monument looms in the distance. Mitchell Pass is clearly visible, silhouetted against the darkening, western sky.

 
Looking to the east, Scottsbluff, Terrytown, and Gering were "lighting up" for the evening.

As we neared the parking lot, I took a few pictures of the last, lingering light over the Monument. My Fitbit informed me that I was a few hundred steps short of my 10,000 step, daily goal, so we continued past the parking area, a little further up the ditchbank road. And that's when Jackson let me know that we had company.

These deer were right across the fence, directly in front of the Monument.

I spotted at least three deer, staring back at me acoss the fence. I took some pictures, which proved there were actually five deer, but the vanishing sunset, behind the deer, made for some dark, grainy photos. Jackson and I continued walking for a few more minutes, before turning back toward the car, and again, Jackson pulled on the leash to let me know the deer were close by, now on the other side of the road, grazing contentedly in the adjacent alfalfa field. I took a few more pictures, pleased that we had seen so many critters along the path, just at dusk. Then we headed for the car, and on toward home.

If the farmer hopes to prevent these interlopers from eating his fresh alfalfa, he'll have to find a new method. Obviously, the deer can't read his sign, but even if they could, they would pay no heed when the alfalfa beckons.

God made all sorts of wild animals, livestock, and small animals, each able to produce offspring of the same kind. And God saw that it was good. Genesis 1:25

The last of the sunset, behind the Monument, provides just enough light to illuminate the water in the ditch.