Annually, like clockwork, in a small woodlot at the end of a steep ridge here in Western New York, a doe bedding phenomenon occurs ever since the lower spruce and ash began to die off where they had once choked a low flat.
Does, so harassed by bucks, dive under fallen trees, branches, and crisscrossed logs there, those impenetrable wooded messes so difficult to walk through… anywhere they can get away. Call it the Honeymoon Flats.
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