RichmondRound

Richmond deer in season: why distance matters now

Richmond deer in season demand respect, yet the signs warning you to stay back are still the most ignored instructions in the park. October brings the rut, when red stags bellow across the landscape and testosterone runs high. These are not pets. They are wild animals at their most unpredictable.

A stag in rut can weigh more than two hundred kilograms. His antlers are not ornamental. He is driven by ancient instinct, primed for confrontation, and utterly indifferent to your intentions. Approaching for a photograph is not charming. It is dangerous, for you and for the deer.

The signs are there for a reason. Fifty metres is the minimum distance. In reality, if a deer looks at you, you are too close. Move away calmly, never turn your back, and never position yourself between a stag and his hinds.

The drama of the rut is magnificent from a safe distance. The bellowing carries across the grassland at dawn. The clashes between rivals echo through the trees. You do not need to be near to witness it.

Respect the distance. Respect the season.

Have you heard the rut this year? Share your thoughts below.

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The sounds of the seasons in Richmond

The sounds of the seasons in Richmond arrive before you see them. A swift’s scream high over the river in May tells you summer is coming. The first roar of a stag in Richmond Park means October has turned. These are the voices of the borough’s calendar. You learn them without trying. The dawn chorus […]

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The rut brings Richmond deer to life

The rut in Richmond Park transforms October into the loudest month of the year. Red and fallow deer stags bellow across the grassland, their voices carrying through the mist at dawn. You can hear them from half a mile away on a still morning. The stags are competing for hinds. They roar, they clash antlers, […]

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Richmond’s robins claim the winter quiet

Richmond’s robins own the winter air now. Step outside at dusk and you will hear them: clear notes cutting through the cold. Every other garden bird has gone silent. The robin sings on. They defend their territories all year, these small fierce birds. But in winter they sing alone. No blackbird chorus. No wren chatter. […]

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The Bench

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