The countryside glows day by day under the sun that radiates everything with a hot, scorching light. Almost all the fields have been mowed and, among the stubble, timid leaves of green grass defy the aridity that nature has wisely arranged for these weeks. The search for the roe deer that has been assigned to me is increasingly difficult. With Vincenzo we evaluated different areas, dedicating hours and hours to the emptying room but, apart from a thin female and some dark twilight barks in the woods, we have not yet seen anything. There are many outings before the hunt for summer loves ends. Time is running out, and maximum effort must be invested. "Tomorrow let's try Poggio al Vento! " Vincenzo suggests, at dinner, while we spend the few hours in the company of friends that separate us from the cruel summer alarm at 3.30. "We will have to walk a little to get there, so we will have to wake up even earlier, but I am confident it will be worth it!".
At 4.00 we set out after having shared the various "burdens" (backpacks, reflex cameras, tripods, rifles), as per the tried and tested script. The decision to try an area in the dark for the first time after many months makes us hesitate a bit: the physiognomy of the fields has changed a bit, where there was a fence now it has been sown, where there was lawn now c is stubble and hay bales. We arrive under the great oak and stop. A thick cloud of shadow still surrounds us, the boundaries of things are illuminated by the stars and the cold glow of dawn that begins to vibrate behind us. The ponentino, imperceptible and cool, blows from the west on the forehead, in the opposite direction to our advance. From here on there is a barley field. With binoculars it is difficult to make out the silhouettes, in the sea of ears that unravels in front of us. "Good heavens what a beast!"Vincenzo exclaims with his lips,"over there, 50 meters from the woods… a huge boar!". I search with my binoculars for the object of so much dismay, and at first I don't identify it with the big black bush that stands out in the middle of the field but… wait a minute! It is not a bush, it moves! As the blue irradiation of the incipient dawn lightens the golden barley, the boundaries of the boar's mighty body become more and more outlined. I can clearly see his mouth open to shell the ears, and chew. Eat methodically, rhythmically, relentlessly, take one step forward with each bite. It is a war machine, focused, with the imposing front end and huge head that stand out from a distance on the narrow pelvis. An "author" boar! To see him better, Vincenzo frames him in the scope of the rifle. If I didn't know him well, I would think, in front of such a beautiful animal, that he is tempted to shoot. But before I can express the evil thought, he's put on the binoculars again.
As soon as the last star sets and the foliage of the trees inlaid the sky above the wood, with his majestic step the king of the scrub retreats cautiously to his apartments.
"We have a roe deer at 100 meters!". Without moving almost anything, I make a slight twist of the torso to move the lenses on the outline indicated by Vincenzo, which can now be glimpsed almost with the naked eye. Roe deer is roe deer, but what is it? "In my opinion it is a female ... wait for me to frame it with the lens!”, And delicately, with sloth movements, I rotate the rifle towards me, fixed on the double support of Vincenzo's new tripod. "He has nothing between his ears ...”I confirm to Vincenzo. The somersault, which until now seemed not to have noticed us, fixes his gaze towards the oak that covers us. He cannot have rushed us because we are in a good wind, not even the sly wart had noticed us: he must have seen us. Face to face with the somersault I have the opportunity to ascertain with certainty his fair sex. It makes a couple of leaps to our right and stops. I follow her from the rifle scope, Vincenzo from the binoculars. The distance is not much, but the light is still low to see with the naked eye. "But ... now it looks like a boy to me!”- I whisper amazed, and angry for having missed the first evaluation. Where the somersault has stopped, a roe deer with "something" on its head is eating, and has the illuminated red point of the optic pointed at the muzzle. There is no doubt: it is a boy. Adult from the posture, from the conformation of the neck. It has a rather long snout. "There is still the female!"- Vincenzo clarifies the mystery -"and is still on alert. The male had already been sitting there for a long time to ruminate, and he got up alarmed by her”Says Vincenzo. After a couple of steps the male sits down to ruminate. Sometimes his head disappears to nibble on a few more bites. I just have to frame the vigorous neck and the singular stage. It has a shorter, pointed shaft, and I don't see the rapier on the other.
Sure he's an adult male, but he's probably an anomalous or… a good bummer. I would like to observe it better and longer, but the situation is not favorable. The light is still low, and it will take at least a quarter of an hour before more details are appreciated on my M2. The illuminated red dot of the Magnus is perfectly stationary on the base of the animal's neck, but I'm not convinced. In any case, I rig the rifle. The slightest movement made does not make me lose the target. The weapon is stable on the double support. "What do I do, Vi ', I shoot in the neck? I got it!". If I ask, it is because I am not convinced. "If you feel like it, shoot, but it's not an easy target. It is not far, you have it at 80 meters ... but consider that it could move soon!". The female is alarmed, even though he seems calm and oblivious to us. Another flash of feminine sixth sense impresses an adrenaline rush in the rear legs of the somersault, which makes it jump 3-4 meters further. The male stands up. "No! He goes away!"Vincenzo swears under his breath. I maintain a singular coolness. I think that if he is not "personally" alarmed, he will reconsider before leaving the pasture. Maybe he'll give me another chance to look at it, and this time it won't be the neck. Once on my feet the handsome male offers me a perfect postcard shape.
The profile of the saddle is slightly inclined towards the rear as if the muscular contraction of the legs is taking up the elastic thrust for a sudden leap. The decision, the aim, the concentration, the breath, the movement of the finger on the trigger, the prediction of its next movements… everything is concentrated in a single, infinitely small and infinitely long instant. Everything happens at the same time and, while I realize what I have to do and what I hope will happen, the male has disappeared from the eyepieces of Vincenzo's binoculars, falling on the last ears on which he had just put his hooves. "Good health”Vincenzo whispers, as he breathes a sigh of relief. Another second and, with a bitter taste in our mouths, we would have stayed there to mull over the flight of the two roe deer, perhaps seasoned with thunderous barks that would have alarmed all the roe deer in the area.
It is not yet day when we go on the roe deer. His white fur and his stage tell us many things about him. The old beak was now in decline, probably the result of the many summers and winters spent here, to guard this wonderful slice of nature.