The last few evenings here have been just about perfect. The wind dies down, the temp hovers around 75, the long shadows march across the grass, and the light turns golden as the sun starts down behind the low mountain to the west. Last night I went out on the front porch, as I like to do, and sat at my shooting table with a glass of red wine.
About 750 yards south of my house a fence runs across in an east-west direction. On the other side of that fence lies an unfenced area of about 45,000 acres. Last night I noticed some movement along that fence and went in and got the binocs. It was a lone antelope buck, not very big, carrying headgear of about eight inches or so.
He seemed bored, or like he was looking for something. He walked along the fence for a while, then turned around and walked back the other way. It was almost like he had an appointment. "Where is she? She said she'd be here."
First he was on one side of the fence, then on the other. I could watch him crawl under the lower strand. (Antelope don't jump fences, they crawl under them. Once I pushed one a little too hard on the road and she scrambled under a fence at pretty high speed. I can't imagine she didn't hurt herself. I felt like a cad. I don't push them on the road anymore. They can have all the time they need.)
I guess she didn't show up, because the first thing I knew he was gone back to the Big Beyond.
The wine was good; the evening was better.