Hidden in the Tall Grass

It was one of those lazy summer afternoons when the world feels unhurried. I was
sitting on my back deck with a cocktail in hand, watching the sunlight dance across the
green grass, each blade shimmering like it had been brushed with gold. The warmth of
the day and the quiet rustle of leaves made it easy to sink into stillness.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, something shifted in the tall grass. At first, I thought it
was just the wind, but then I saw him — a very young buck, his velvet antlers still small
and soft, peeking curiously through the meadow. He moved cautiously, pausing every
few steps as if deciding whether to trust the calmness of the moment.