Many years have elapsed since my best and most memorable encounter with deer. I was roe stalking in the high summer rut in a location greatly favoured by this species. I had walked in before first light and climbed a low oak tree in which was a natural seat. From this perch I could observe the field in front of me and the woodland edge on its far side. The field had been in wheat, most of which had been harvested, and to my left a strip had been left in standing corn.
On this particular morning a thin mist restricted my view and I awaited the coming of the light and, I hoped, the lifting of the mist. At that time there were no thermal aids available and I looked out over a field devoid of deer. I was far from bored as there were other birds and animals to observe in the still of the very early morning. And it was whilst I was scanning this scene, making sweep after sweep with my binoculars, that I first saw the doe.