As I arrive at this peat bog nestled in a rocky valley surrounded by pine trees, the doe bolts and quickly stops a few dozen meters away, behind some juniper bushes, where I can no longer see her. I don’t immediately understand why she didn’t continue further, until she lets out a cry and I see her young one trot calmly towards her before stopping at the edge of the forest, trying to understand the reason for all this agitation. He doesn’t see me, doesn’t understand. I have time to study him through my binoculars. Another cry from the mother and they disappear up the hills. I grab my pencil and put down on paper everything I can of this observation. The watercolor will have to wait until I get home.