The ritual of the king of our forests, the red deer, has always been associated with autumn. When the temperatures drop low enough in September, mythical creatures seem to come to life in the mountains. They are not giants, only the age-old desire to pass on genes awakens in deer. At first, only timidly, but later their roar resounds everywhere. And when you sit quietly at the edge of the forest, you too can catch a glimpse of the actors of this beautiful natural theater. If you haven't had the luck so far, I invite you to my short clip from the deer rut.
This year was special in many ways. In some, unfortunately, the better places, the rut was very quiet and many of my plans were thwarted by bad weather.
Despite all the circumstances, I have managed some nice shots, which you can see in the clip.
