By Mary Alice Murphy

For Just call me MAM

Three close encounters have occurred in my life the past few days.

This morning was my favorite, with the other two being more like close calls.

The birdbath was frozen solid. It was still only 27 degrees out, but the sun was starting to melt the edges of the water. I watched out the kitchen window as at least 14 Gambel's quail showed up. All puffed up to keep warm, eight or nine of them gathered around the birdbath, which sits low to the ground. They tried to drink, but did not have a great deal of success.

However, the birds that come to the feeders, which range from finches to jays, from woodpeckers to towhees, with the occasional thrasher thrown in, always manage to leave a mess of seeds below the feeders.

The quail are adept at gleaning the seeds on the ground. This morning they scurried around, with an elder occasionally chasing a young'un away.

The two close calls happened Thursday morning and Saturday evening.

Thursday I was headed into town for a meeting a bit before 9 a.m. We have lots of deer in the neighborhood, but I can usually see them alongside the road and slow down in case they decide to dash in front of me.

This particular morning, a doe was headed up an incline to my right and I couldn't see her, until she dashed in front of my car. I was going probably between 20 and 25 because I was slowing to head into a curve. She bounded up the hill beside me and appeared right in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes, and she kept going at full speed without my hitting her. Whew!

The second one happened Saturday about 6 p.m., so it was already dark.

My husband and I were heading northward on Pinos Altos Road just north of 32nd Street, still within city limits. Another vehicle was a ways in front of us, but not far enough for my husband to put on the high beams.

Fortunately, we were still in the 30 mph zone, and we tend to stick to the speed limit in general, not just because police and sheriff's deputies tend to hang out in the area trying to catch speeders.

The headlights when on low don't reach that far out on our older vehicle, so all of a sudden, we see a beige rump in the lights'a large beige rump. This one was not a deer, but a full-sized elk, kind of slowly moseying across the road, probably no more than 10 or 15 feet in front of us. Hubby was driving and hit the brakes, and the elk seemed to realize that it was threatened and moved more quickly the rest of the way across the road. But do people usually encounter elk within the city limits of Silver City?

Again the animal was moving from the right to the left (although the earlier deer was moving from south to north into less populated country).

I've observed over the more than 17 years I've been driving on P.A. Road that deer usually move from the west to the east in the early mornings, moving from more populated areas. In the evenings around dusk, they generally move from east to west, moving into areas with houses. Perhaps for more protection from predators? Deer don't always behave this way, but more often than not, that is their pattern.

Let me hear from you at justcallmemam@grantcountybeat.com.

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