Four-Points

WOW! I am still excited, even two weeks after my wonder-filled find.

I was out in the open fields and forest edges on a warm Saturday, hiking and enjoying being outside. As I crossed a field, I saw something sticking up out of the grass ahead of me. It was about 50 yards away. The sunlight highlighted it so it stood out from the surrounding grasses even though it was not much higher that the brown stalks.

The area where I do most of my local hiking has a rather large white-tailed deer population. There are several herds that populate the area with numerous males of all ages.

One of the aspects of the white-tail deer, which every school child knows, is the male’s antlers are shed each year in the late Spring. Each year, each male deer will grow a new set of antlers. The antlers grow through the Spring and Summer, reaching their full size at beginning of the deer’s mating season known as “the rut”. As the male deer grows older his antlers grow larger with each passing year. A young male may only grow antlers that come to a single point. These are also known as spikes.

An older male will grow more massive antlers with numerous points. The antlers remain on the male until after the mating season is over. At that time the male deer’s body chemistry begins to change which signals his body that the antlers are no longer needed. His antlers become less firmly attached to his skull, and they prepare to fall off. This physiological change takes place in the late Winter and early Spring.

The antlers may fall off as the buck is walking through the woods where the antlers may be brushed off by low branches. They may fall off due to a jolt, if the deer is involved in a late season battle with another male deer. They may fall off as the buck runs and jumps across a field.

In the part of Virginia where I hike this change and the shedding of antlers generally happens after mid-February. If you are out in the woods and fields where deer roam and browse, you may find a single antler, or in some cases a pair of antlers. Finding a pair is rather rare, as the antlers fall off at different times. The pair may be far apart across a field or patch of woods. Sometimes though they fall off on a used trail, so that even if they are shed on different days they may be found at locations on the same trail. It’s a random pattern depending on where the deer goes, his body chemistry, and whether there is an event that causes the antlers to be knocked or brushed off his head.

Then the forest or field takes over. These “sheds” are not just useless bone. Small forest creatures will gnaw on the antlers as they are a source of phosphorous and calcium and other minerals for these creatures. These may be mice emerging from their winter tunnels, or foxes and coyotes. 

And of course, there are people who may pick them up. These people, like me, enjoy walking across the fields and up through the woods looking for whatever they might see and enjoying the peace of the natural surroundings.

I have found small sheds before, but this find was certainly different with its polished four points. When I picked it up, I was surprised by how heavy it was. It weighed about four pounds. I have been out to the area where I found it twice more to see if its mate will turn up. It has not. It might not have fallen off yet. Or it has fallen off and some forest creature, or another walker, has carried it off.

BRIDGE

During this “Winter-Without-Snow” I have taken advantage of the record-setting weather to wander fields and forest lanes which I would not usually go onto. Many of these places are not available to me Spring through Fall when the hay is growing and the ticks are more active. Right now, the hay has been cut and most insects are dormant due to their season .

Last week I went to what was for me an unexplored field surrounded by woods. I intended to walk the perimeter which was two miles around its full circuit. When I added in my excursions into the woods surrounding the field, my walk was a very pleasant three miles – and maybe a bit more. As I walked the edges of the field, I would walk down into the surrounding woods to look at some item that had caught my eye. Perhaps it was an old bottle reflecting the sun, or a particularly interesting shape of a tree, or a stand of bushes full of bright red winter-berries.

I was drawn further into the woods by a stream that flowed near the edge of the woods. The rains of the week before had mostly drained out of the hilly woods surrounding the field.  The stream was flowing quietly. It carried a sparkling brightness in the filtered sunlight and was worth exploration. The woods were not dark like northern coniferous forests full of evergreens. This was a bright, southern mixed hardwood forest of bare branches and filtered sunlight. The branches, bare of leaves, allowed the sunlight to penetrate through what in summer is a darkening canopy and brighten the area below. It was bright and inviting so I directed my trek along the course of the stream.

It was easy to tell that the stream would sometimes run high and fast as the banks of the stream were steep and without much growth. Further up the hill into the forest I could see something that stretched across the stream. When I got to it, I found it was an abandoned foot-bridge. But it was not a bridge that could be used. It was missing boards. A few were in place, but other dangled above the narrow stream. Only one of the natural-timber cross-pieces was still in place, spanning the stream to the opposite bank. No animal other than a raccoon or a mouse would be able to cross it easily.

Once in times past, the bridge had spanned the stream. It went from one place to another. It had lain at some point further up the stream. Then a day of heavy rain and high water, perhaps in a hurricane, had lifted the bridge and pushed it to this current spot. On my side of the stream the bridge was open. On the opposite bank the timber span ended at the base of a large tree.

Even though the bridge could not now be crossed, it still caused me to wonder. What is on the other side? I could easily see the other side just across the small gully; the distance was less than 30 feet. But if I could have walked across the bridge, what would I actually see? I would see the same trees on that far bank that I could see from my current spot. But on that far side I would be able to reach out and touch those trees. I would experience that distant shore.

I have never seen a bridge that I did not want to cross in order to touch the other side.

And that has made all the difference. (1)

  1. Borrowing the closing from Robert Frost’s, The Road Not Taken.