I will be the first to tell you how Atlanta is too big for its britches and is a smoggy, traffic-ridden poster child for urban sprawl. (This is tangentially the subject matter of the short story I am working on, "Maybelle and the Hand Grenade.") On the other hand, I also assert that Atlanta is magical. I mean...there's a Cernunnos statue in the middle of the Peachtree/Roswell Rd. split. It has an extraordinary number of trees and green space. It is also full of deer.
I've been on one of my periodic exercise rampages, which I have not been documenting here primarily because it's dull and also because it's a matter of time before I turn into a couch potato again and I'd rather not field questions like "so, how's that getting into shape thing going?" when that happens. I am having a good time while it lasts and that's what matters.
Today I went to the Roswell Riverwalk, which is long and woodsy enough to keep me entertained. It runs along the banks of the Chattahoochee (hence the Riverwalk designation) and abuts the National Park Service land. It's pretty popular with humans, and also deer:
It's hard to see them, but there is a deer family minding their own business in amongst the trees...a young buck, a doe, and a fawn. They pretty much ignored me the whole time; I gather they are used to paparazzi.