One of my favorite forest activities is simply running across the forest floor with other deer. There's something so majestic about the unified movement as we all leap over obstacles together. Running alone is never as satisfying. Seeing things with no one to share them with is almost pointless. Symphony often runs alone. It's usually quiet when I'm awake. The other deer are all lying down or sleeping. Motionless. I pass by the occasional fellow insomniac and we might exchange greetings, but it's a strange feeling being one of the only ones awake. Or perhaps we're both too shy to play together, so instead we part ways and continue running alone in the quiet.

It can be lonely, but every now and then we do enjoy the silence. Being alone under the roof of trees as the light filters down, making the dust look like pixie dust in the sun rays. Although I usually don't stay still for long. I like to practice casting spells on unsuspecting sleepers and leaping from rock to rock at the playground. Sometimes Symphony practices sparring techniques whilst the others rest.

There's always something to do in the forest, quiet or lively. Although when the friendly and playful deer are all awake, even the shyest deer feel like they can be a part of things, meet new friends and remember their names to play in the future.

Something I've noticed is that I very rarely see deer sleeping alone. It's almost comforting in a way, although Symphony hardly ever lies down next to another deer, unless it's only for a moment to cast spells, being far too shy. When deer lie down to rest, they pair up, although the deer don't necessarily know one another. It makes sense; it's warmer, it feels safer, and of course, it's very nice to keep another deer company. It can certainly get lonely in the quiet. After learning a valuable lesson about forest cliques, Symphony is determined to be less of a loner, and to try and run with the herds more often.

I had my first negative forest experience today so it prompted me to write my first blog entry. I was genuinely excited to see the number of deer in the forest today. Perhaps I'm never awake during the times when most other deer are, but for me, it was the most other deer I'd ever had the opportunity to roam the forest with. Generally, it's quite easy to make friends; you walk up to one another, greet each other in some way, and then if there is mutual interest in casting spells or leaping over rocks and fallen logs together, then a new friendship is born.
I've noticed that some deer, older deer most likely, have formed their own little herds with whom they spend their time with. What I didn't get to experience until today was the exclusiveness of said herds. I happened across a large group of frolicking deer, who seemed to be doing nothing in particular, and I thought to join them. I bowed to the group and greeted each deer with an exchange of sniffing and perhaps playful rearing. However, one deer didn't return my greeting, but instead stood shaking its head repeatedly. Afraid I'd somehow offended it, I began a nearly 15 minute long ordeal of trying to express I was merely trying to make friends. Apparently, none of this made sense to the deer that had given itself brain damage by the repetitive shaking of its head.
Now, I know there's some deer that are just more likable than others, but instead of leaving me alone, the deer started to try to pick a fight with me. It followed me around and made aggressive motions toward me until several of the other deer caught on and did the same thing. So it was that simple. I was being shunned in the peaceful endless forest. It was a disturbing psychological experience, finding that even through simple gestures, and even through knowing absolutely nothing about another deer, there's already cliques and prejudices going on. Instead of feeling hurt, however, I was fascinated.