Through the mist I caught his eye
a majestic beast was he,
stood firm and proud his head held high
his fearless stance for all to see.
I dared not move just held his gaze,
held my breath for fear he´d run,
with staring eyes he stood unfazed
in this stand-off he knew he´d won.
As I backed up he turned away
slowly fading from my sight,
was it a dream or real that day
in the misty morning light*.
On an encounter with a stag in the Scottish highlands...