It’s dawn at Chico Hot Springs, in Montana, it’s snowing, and I’m in a state of bliss. Mittens, kittens—I can’t get the damn Sound of Music out of my head, and you can hear me singing about “My Favorite Things” as the first light breaks and a trio of mule deer appears, looking for their breakfast. Barefoot, I walk outside. Unlike the timid East Coast deer that run when you approach, these animals stand their ground. I wave my iPod at them and their big ears prick up. The Sound of Music draws them closer.
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