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I took a walk around the lake today, and while I was sitting on the tumbled down boardwalk down one of the side paths, a buck came picking his way out across the stream about ten yards away. He definitely knew I was there, and kept eyeing me suspiciously, but I practiced my not-breathing, and he didn't bolt. (I had to wait until he turned around to nip his shoulder to scratch my nose, though.) He wandered around in the water for a good minute or two. He kept flicking his tail and dropping his head--I assume flies were bothering him, but it's hard to say.

It was sort of surprising to see one out at mid-afternoon on a warm day, but very cool.

In other news, my hair is now a merlot color, with auburn bangs, deeply unnatural but a lot of fun. I haven't felt this punk since I dyed a purple strip in my hair at age fourteen. (The bottle promised that it would be out in three washings. I graduated from high school with the remains still there.)

I am nearly ready for Anthrocon, or else I have simply ground to a halt from pure exhaustion. It's pretty much the same thing.

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Wildlife attitudes really, really depend on what the humans in the area are used to doing to them. I grew up in Nevada County, CA, which is hunting country, and couldn't get within a hundred yards of a deer without it bolting. Then I went off to college in Santa Cruz, and was rather surprised when you could practically run up and tackle one without any serious problems. In fact, I might have done that if there'd been anyone with a camera handy to document the occasion.

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