By Marty Basch

At first, one appeared as a brown boulder along the pond's grassy western shore. But it was not a ubiquitous moose rock as often seen in nature because the boulder moved.

The brown blob was not alone as another appeared and, as the other, looked to be in a trance-like state with Howdy Doody ears outstretched sensing the yellow banana boat upon the water.

Then, as the art rock band Genesis named its glorious 1978 album, and then there were three.

A deer trio stood and peered upon the Lakes Region pond, perhaps curious, but nonetheless on guard and as soon as the unspoken safety perimeter was breached by the kayak, they bounded with their white tails high for the thick woods leaving behind squishing sounds as they first pranced into the marshy and muddy shoreline.

The wonderful sideshow took place in the oval-shaped Garland Pond in Moultonborough, a small 120-acre or so relatively shallow place with a maximum depth of 16 feet easily bypassed for bigger area waters like coves found in Squam and Winnipesaukee.

Surrounded by the majestic wave of the Sandwich Mountain Range, Garland is one of those flat water finds where there is often more there than initially meets the eye.

Plus, you have to find the place.

Save for a house high on a western hill and perhaps one hidden by trees, there isn't much for development along the central New Hampshire pond unless you consider stone walls near its shore along a pine needle covered path modern expansion. The pond is easily not found and once you find it, there's a hoop or two to jump through. But rest assured, it is there on Garland Pond Road across from a Route 25 Italian restaurant next to a school.

One might feel like an uninvited dinner guest as the dirt road appears to be a driveway. This might cause many paddlers to pause. Continue on as the road becomes two-track and about the time you think "I'm not so sure" there is a sign for the Nature Conservancy's Wingate Shores Preserve (walking along the soft dirt road is a pleasant undertaking) and limited parking. According to the Conservancy, the preserve protects forested wetlands, including the red maple swamp and a high quality vernal pool that is home to many amphibian species, such as salamanders and wood frogs.

But wait. First, there's another twist.

There's the short trek through the woods to the weed-choked boat launch by either walk and carry or drag and schlep.

Either way leads to the launch with a healthy dose of aquatic vegetation and entry into the watery world of black ducks, herons, frog,  beaver and the rare water marigold.  With vibrant yellow leaves, the marigold is a perennial with midsummer flowers that attract insects while birds eat its fruits.

Exploration began slowly along the eastern shore as clear water replaced the plentiful green lili pads with the occasional blooming flower.

Quickly, the road noise is left behind for serenity. Beauty is found in the mosaics created by wind when it touches water. Ducks are spooked. A heron flies away.

In the northern stretch a sinuous boggy finger invites exploration. Fed by the Red Hill River, clearly the passageway is ruled by the beaver kingdom and their wooden branch dam detours. Though portages are possible, by the second fortress it was time to turn around and explore the western shore where the deer triplets put on the amazing show.

Usually, wildlife encounters take seconds. Though a stopwatch wasn't running, this one easily lasted a minute or two as I was able to snap 27 mostly lousy and blurry photos as the three morphed from brown moose rock  blotches to elegant forest dancers hurrying to exit the stage.

What they thought of the applause I'll never know.

But it was time to press on for the southern shoreline of the pond. Like the north, there is a narrow passageway but this one wasn't as engaging. The views were still fine, but this one dead-ended in a bit of a wooded gorge within sight of the busy road.

It was only after being safely on shore did the three little deer receive a standing ovation.