Late Last Night~

in our front yard…

001

I was called to the window to see…

008

this sweet thing.

009

We were stunned.

010

This has never happened before because we live just off the main drag and a good 2 miles from the mountains.

011

Not to mention the big lighted car lot that this pretty thing had to cross to nibble our grass…

005

or crab apples…

002

or pine cones…

022

or whatever it was.

023

But she left while we were watching and then–from the footprints, we could tell she came back again before morning.

024

We loved it.

019

Felt kinda magical.

:}

8 Replies to “Late Last Night~”

  1. Cute and magical yes, but they belong in the mountains and foothills. Friends in Bountiful don’t think it’s so fun anymore to see them because it’s impossible to grow a garden or keep almost any vegetation alive – they have many herds that have adapted to “city” life. They have their young in back yards and never even attempt to return to the high ground. Guess someone should have thought of that before they took over their homes and built all those houses up the mountain side.

  2. Well, that would be a magic trick I suppose! haha! We’ve just never seen them out this way. He/she would have had to pass a couple of blocks of grass just to nibble ours. That’s what is so weird. Plus to think of them crossing State Street and strolling through the car lots. It was kinda fun. I bet if you had a German Shepherd you could keep a garden. πŸ˜€

  3. It was really fun. I just sat in the basement and snapped pictures through the window. That’s why it kept looking up, it would see the light from my camera and go, “what the…?” :}

  4. Oh, I totally agree. But it just seems like it had to pass a mile of houses with as much grass as we have under the snow to get here. What I wish the critter had done was go out back and gobble up the dregs of last year’s garden. That would have been lovely. In fact, I would have paid. haha. But soon enough, I’ll have a bit of help with the garden again. πŸ˜€

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *