Deer Neighbor

January 19, 2026

Greetings from the neighbor,

I think that the deer sleep really well.

I don’t know about all deer.  I imagine it varies depending on where they are, maybe their personality, and definitely who their neighbors are. But I am fairly sure the deer in the woods behind our house sleep really well. 

In the early half-light of morning, I see the deer moving through the backyard, and I wonder where they slept.  There’s lots of choices around here to be out of sight, to be out of the wind.  Little crevices, valleys down along the creek where the brush is thick.  I have seen the places where they bed down, flattened wild grass, reeds pushed back, twigs and leaves for a nest.

Once they are awake, they browse along the clusters of edible things in our yard, nuzzling each other, the younger ones chasing some invisible thing, flashing across the snow and miraculously threading through the trees at lightning speed. They gather in a family of six or seven, watching out for each other as they wander from one place to the next.

It occurred to me this morning that it seems they are at ease here, and so I think these deer sleep really well.  I think they sleep all night, unless they have to pee, or maybe get hungry, or feel like a little romance.  I think they close their eyes and fall asleep, and stay asleep, perhaps dream of deer children or berries or whatever deer hope for when they are awake.

These deer live much of their lives in the forest here, and in nearby fields, without any natural prey.  They have to be careful crossing the street, but otherwise, for the most part, humans don't bother them. They are still skittish around us, but even that gets less and less as they get older, get used to us. It helps that we put out food for the birds, which the deer reasonably think is a snack for them.  They know us, so they don't go to bed worrying we might disturb them.

Other deer, further out, the ones in the cornfields a mile or so from here, have coyotes to think about, which I imagine means they don't sleep as well.  Those deer hear the little yips, the howls, pick up the smells, the traces of scat or the presence of the coyote den, and it probably makes it more challenging for the deer to doze off. 

I think when the farmland deer see humans it startles them, not just because of the guns, but because they are strangers.  So, when they lie down to sleep, they are on alert, and when the wind nudges a branch, or rustles a litter of leaves, they wake, wondering if that is something they should pay attention to. They are afraid, they are anxious, uneasy as they lie down, and so it's hard for them to fall asleep, and when they do they don't go deep enough to have dreams.  They are on the edge of awake all the time, and so all they know is this reality.  There’s no relief, and so during the day, they are probably a little cranky.

But these deer in my yard, the ones I see grow up from fawns, racing across the open into our yard, playing between the pines, nibbling the ferns, licking the bird feeders empty; they sleep better.  They can take naps in the middle of the day too, if they choose.  But whenever they sleep it is deep and restful, and while they are asleep, they dream of things that they have experienced and sometimes that leads to things they really want.  When they wake, they are rested and probably living some very simple, primal version of happiness.

If you were a deer in my yard, you would know me already.  When I come home, you would stand at the end of my driveway and I’d roll down my window and say hello to you, ask you what you’re up to. You’d look at me with your big, curious eyes, doing deer-translation. You’ve seen me on the deck in the summer, a cold beer in hand, and I always strike up a conversation.  I brought my grandkids out to meet you, holding their hand, teetering across the grass, and you stood there and admired them.

You and your family will come into this yard and lie down at the edge of the woods, folding your legs under you, and you will doze off.  You will have your babies in the soft lawn under the maple tree. You will invite your friends over.

“He’s a nice guy,” you would say about me, with your deer accent, “He lets us eat the arborvitae, even though it makes his wife crazy.” You will tell your relatives about this place, here where the land falls away into the forest.  Where the fallen branches and low brush make for a quiet place for you all to rest.  You tell them about the dreams, and they look at you with wonder.

The deer are big animals, graceful and powerful. They mean no harm, are good neighbors to the living things around them. You can tell by the unhurried tracks in the snow, and by the nests they make nearby, and the welcoming look they give, that we are living in their home. They don’t live here too, we live here too.

Maybe this is a silly thing to think about. Imagine pausing in your morning and considering how well an animal slept, and even sillier, telling people about it.  How do they sleep, the rabbits and the owls and the squirrels, the host of sparrows and finches, the foxes and the deer?  It is silly, and it leads to caring about all kinds of things. And it leads to sleeping really well at night.

Hope this finds you sharing,

David

Copyright © 2026 David Smith