In the evenings our local Pronghorn herd has been wandering through our pasture and over to the neighbors’ land. The herd has several young fawns born this year, and I finally found a moment when they would let me capture them with my camera.
As the cool air took over the summer heat, I watched the Pronghorn fawns run through the sage, almost as if playing chase with one another, and was amazed at their speed. I counted twelve fawns at one point. Their chattering and the swishing of the grass could be heard as they played on the prairie, just like the old cowboy song says they do. When the last rays of sun began to slip from the sky, they rested- does included.
As the cool air took over the summer heat, I watched the Pronghorn fawns run through the sage, almost as if playing chase with one another, and was amazed at their speed. I counted twelve fawns at one point. Their chattering and the swishing of the grass could be heard as they played on the prairie, just like the old cowboy song says they do. When the last rays of sun began to slip from the sky, they rested- does included.
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