Bosky

That's the word that came to mind when I happened upon this small herd of deer (there were 10, total) during a lunchtime run in Bushy Park yesterday, though I soon realised 'musky' was the word I wanted.

I love seeing the deer when I run. Otherwise I'm not so fond of Bushy Park, because large areas of it are unshaded, tufty grassland, difficult to hike through and monotonous in the scenery.

But still, it's a park, and being able to get out for fresh air on a fine workday, away from traffic and shops, is a huge perk of the job location.

The first time I saw deer while running, I was picking my way through a long column of trees and found myself among a big herd that included stags - giant prongs and all! Several of them lifted their heads and stared at me, completely still, until I jogged past. It was most unsettling.

Even more intimidating was the time I and a few gals from the local running club went deep into the park as evening fell, and we suddenly realised we were far too close to a herd during mating season. One stag started roaring - it's like a really angry 'moo'. Then we saw two of them run and lock horns. Breathtaking, but a bit scary. I keep a respectful distance from my deer friends these days.