A fawn crossing the road on spindly legs was the tiniest the deer I’ve seen.
I stopped my bicycle, but was close enough that the mother picked up its pace and moved out of sight before I could reach for a camera.
This spring, I’ve seen wildlife near streets and country roads of the Conyngham-Sugarloaf Valley.
A woodchuck ducked down a hole by the Lutheran Church.
Two rabbits ran in a yard that I passed.
Squirrels are everywhere.
So are robins and crows.
I’ve seen ducks, red-winged blackbirds, Canada geese and the occasional hawk.
Our backyard feeder is drawing blue jays, gold finches, catbirds and rose-breasted grosbeaks, which haven’t been around.
A red Valentine stands out against the otherwise white breast, black head and back of the male grosbeak.
Females, however, have none of those colors — they look like oversized sparrows with streaks of tan and white and are so different from males that my wife and I had to look in a book to identify them.
A friend, gardening while I stopped to talk — a safe distance away — said he has grosbeaks and also Baltimore Orioles.
But he started taking his feeders inside at night after seeing a bear wander past. He guessed the bear weighed 500 pounds.
The fawn that I saw probably didn’t weigh more than a pound or two.
Pennsylvania’s Game Commission reminds people to leave fawns and other baby animals alone this time of year. Their parents usually are near. Plus feeding or touching them can keep them from living normally in the wild and put people at risk from disease or attack.
After seeing the deer, I took a turn and rode to where I could see trees that the deer entered from another angle.
In a clearing at the edge of the trees, I found the mother again, eating leaves and occasionally looking up.
The fawn seemed to be missing, but eventually I noticed the white spots of the little one sitting in the grass nearby.