A young male deer casually approaches the road that is Chestnut Avenue in Bushy Park, crossing it in front of me as I cycle homewards this morning.
I must admit to a sense of relief as it didn't mistake my handle-bars for antlers and spoil for a fight.
Or worse.
Even more relieved Dad didn’t show up.
The red and fallow deer that roamed “freely” in the park back in the first half of the 16th Century would presumably have been less approachable, wary of King Henry VIII on the hunt.
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