Noice day for a jog at Fresh Pond. Surely.
I started out at the Smith Place entrance and managed to maintain a snail's pace as I reached the section of road where the golf clubhouse and playing fields are. There's a steep, forested hill rising up from the pond which keeps the road in deep shade this time of day.
To my right I heard a crash and what do I see bounding down the hill but a full-grown, whitetail deer. She flies across the road maybe 15 feet in front of me and runs full tilt into the eight foot tall, chainlink fence at the water's edge. She bounces off the fence and falls to the ground, mouth agape; eyes wild with terror. She stumbles to her feet, wheels around and deliberately runs into the chainlink again, desperate to escape into the pond. She bounces off again and this time bolts back up the hill.
About 1/16 mile down the road I happen upon a park ranger. I stop and try to catch my breath and say, "I almost got tackled by a deer!"
She says, "a deer?"
I say, "A full grown deer. A female, I think. She ran right into the fence, bounced off it then ran into it again then ran back up the hill."
"Where did this happen," asks the ranger.
I tell her, "about a quarter mile back, downhill from the playing fields."
Ms Ranger waddles down the road the way I came. I notice her ass is the size of a beachball. Maybe two beachballs. You don't expect to see fat park rangers, even in the city.
If I had been another 10 steps further down the road this beastie may have collided with me. I would certainly have been injured. I guess it pays to go slow sometimes.
I came within a tenth of a mile of completing the loop around Fresh Pond. Cramps got me.
While exiting the park on the same path I used to enter, I look up at this massive sycamore tree
with an unusual T shaped crown. Sitting at the center of the T is a racoon the size of a spaniel. It took me a few seconds to be sure what it was. All I could see was this big gray lump but it was moving so I shouted, "HEY RICKEY!" He looked down at me and I laughed.