Self preservation is an innate survival mechanism in the natural world. As any new born fawn would do, stillness is the initial non-step on the path to longevity.  At least, until some imminent danger approaches too close, then the instinct of flight from fright takes hold.  The fawn in this picture was pretty exposed on a pathway I was walking along the Salmon River. It thought it was hidden, or at least tried to convince me of such, so I pretended not to see, while taking this photo. Luckily, I left it without disturbing, and discovered  later on my return hike back to my boat, that it had made its escape after I had gone.

It reminded me of another time long ago while on The Snake River in Hells Canyon. I was guiding a dory trip and had stopped to lead a hike for the guests in my boat that day. We made a side hike up a beautiful micro canyon, with a spectacular cathedral like canopy of trees, wading through a gurgling  stream with little waterfalls  to pass around. Once we got above the grotto, more open  slopes of bunchgrass and sparse hackberry trees met our gaze.

As I began to climb the steep  hillside, leaning into the extreme slope, something grabbed my attention when I began to take my next step. Thinking rattlesnake, as I was ever aware of keeping my eyes open for one (my own self preservation), suddenly there was a big commotion. Before I could even register properly what was going on, I miraculously was holding in my arms a baby fawn, only a day or so old. Without seeing it, I was about to step on it, when it decided it was time to move. But the slope was so steep, the poor little thing stumbled and fell backwards, landing in the middle of the danger it was trying to get away from.  Me.  But lucky for it, I was not the big bad wolf.  One of the guest took a picture of it, then I let in carefully down to the ground and it scampered away faster than greased lightning.

It made turned my day into Cloud Nine, all day long afterwards, and turned into a life long memory.  Nature is so wonderful.