Woke up this morning to see quick movements outside. Fawns chasing one another through the oakbrush, bounding, darting, whirling around their more serious mothers. Four does, six fawns. Two fawns left their playmates and headed (literally) into their mother, butting her udder for some liquid breakfast. One of their little friends, whose mother was, perhaps, on a quicker weaning program, nosed around the activity, hoping for a sip too, but of course the doe would have none of that. She started to lead the whole bunch across the street into a denser stand of brush, but was turned back by a woman walking her little black dog and grey goat. (I'm not making this up.) At that point I got this photo (click for a larger view):
A few minutes later, on the other side of the house, Lyn pointed out this buck, browsing through the meadow.
[enhanced just hours later by Don LaVange, using whatever magic he uses]
And finally, on the lower deck, we found proof of the desirability of our full, bushy sweet basil, its leaves almost ready for a fine weekend pesto, but now making at least one of those fawns or does or bucks happy this fine morning.