Now, don’t go trying to count them yourself like a rogue naturalist. You’ll get distracted by a squirrel doing something hilarious, or you’ll lose count after the ninth stag yawns. It’s a fool’s errand, and the deer know it. They enjoy the confusion.
And if you ask a park ranger, they’ll give you the official figure, but they’ll also smile knowingly. They’ve seen fawns born and stags bellow, and they know that number is just a beautiful estimate. The park is alive, it’s messy, and it’s perfect that way.
So, the next time you visit, don’t stress about the exact tally. Just look for the deer with the particularly regal antlers—that one is probably the unofficial mayor of Richmond Park.
