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About 5:15 or so a nice little forked horn yearling came trotting by. He got into range and even traveled the north/south trail that is right in front of my stand. However, I just couldn’t manage to get an arrow into him because he was moving when he was in the clear and behind brush when he stopped or slowed, etc. I felt blessed to see a deer that close and my heart was racing from the old familiar thrill of a deer in range. About 20 minutes later I heard movement on the south ridge and spotted legs and the silhouette of a deer. Calmly and very nonchalantly I stood, grabbed my bow, nocked an arrow and got into position. After the earlier excitement with the fork horn and assuming it was just a doe, I was cool as a cucumber, that is until B.O.B. (big old buck) showed himself.