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Four white-tailed deer graze atop a rise, oblivious to Jay P. Lee and G.W. Palen, and other folks named Stowell and Whitehead and Slayton and Potter interred there. It’s afternoon — an uncommon feeding time for deer that usually prefer dawn and dusk — on a fall day at Mount Hope Cemetery in Lansing, Michigan.
The deer browse amongst the graves, apparently unperturbed by the writer, photographer and ecologist walking at the foot of their hill, discussing varieties of lichen on tombstones, the food value of non-native honeysuckle for wildlife and the evils of invasive buckthorn.