I’ve never considered myself a great admirer of animals or pets. My attention has always leaned more toward plants. I am especially fond of flowers, which I see as silent companions. They bring beauty without demanding much in return. Yet, there is one animal that has always captivated me—the deer. It’s because I recognize something of myself in its way of being and in the places it inhabits.

The deer is a creature of solitude. It thrives in cold forests and mountain landscapes, far from the noise of crowds. It doesn’t seek constant company, nor does it blend easily with others. Instead, it survives quietly, relying on its own instincts and resilience. In that solitude, I see a mirror of my own preference for silence. I yearn for distance from the chaos of the city. I crave the calm that only nature can offer.

What fascinates me most is the deer’s quiet dignity. It doesn’t need to roar or dominate. Its strength lies in its ability to stay still. It moves gracefully and endures. In many ways, it reminds me that solitude is not emptiness. It is a space where the spirit breathes freely. It is where one can listen to the whispers of the forest and, to the voice of God.

That is why the deer has become my favorite animal. It is not just because of its appearance. It embodies a way of living that resonates deeply with me. This way of living is a life of simplicity. It is a life of quiet strength. It is also a life of communion with the mountain and the mist.