cmg,
Man, I have to go back forty-five years to get this one. When I was eighteen I was pretending to be an Indian pretending to sneek up on a deer. I was wearing tennis shoes back in the day when we played basketball. Now a days folks in the city wear sneekers and boldly shoot each other.
I was in Southern California where some of the rocks are about the size of a single car garage. Then you have some down to the the size of basket balls, with everything in between. This allows a sneeking White boy Indian to be so silent that he can sneek up on his shadow.
I rounded one large boulder and came face to face with three deer. I mean like right there! The furthest was maybe ten feet away. They were as frightened as me. Maybe a little more. I am laughing and chuckling at the mental picture the memory brings to mind. They couldn't get traction quickly enough on the surface of the rocks and were litterally falling down from side to side in their fishtailing attempts to escape.
Not exactly a stalk, but a very fun memory I have not enjoyed for a long time.
