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This ridge had thick forest. Deer herds sheltered here for years, centuries, forever. The parkway was built along their ancient trails. I counted 47 one morning before they vanished into the forest. Yearlings jumping over each other chasing in circles. Young bucks, weaning does, a fine big buck standing at the edge of the pines watching his harem survive. Christmas trees took down the forest, hunters and poachers took out the deer.
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