Probably back to the earliest times people have been creating images of wildlife, deer have been one of the constants.

As far back as the cave paintings of Lascaux in France, which date to somewhere around 20,000 years ago, deer — specifically stags — are represented no less than 90 times in a gallery of about 6,000 figures depicted, including 900 animal images.

Crafted as a cross-cultural positive element lent to a painting, drawing or other depiction, deer have been featured as quarry, measures of affluence, longevity, grace and agility and have been woven into the mythology of the ancient Greeks and, in other cases, even likened to human souls thirsting for the knowledge of God.

In modern times, deer also adorn the packaging of some brands of beer, hard liquor and butter, and one well-known insurance company uses an image of a “hart fording” a stream in its advertising, inspired by the company’s namesake headquarters town, elements from the seal of that city and a famous English deer painting from 1851 called “Monarch of the Glen.”

Deer are symbols often expressed during Christmastime, in baptism rooms, in mosaics and on pottery, as well as a wealth of other occurrences. Deer are typically shown in artwork as demure or majestic, powerful, elegant, proud, wild and free.

Numerous wildlife artists, back as far as the walls of the Lascaux caves, have sought to capture at least some of these attributes in their creations involving deer.

I remember that the first paint-by-number oil painting I ever attempted as a kid was a picture of a buck that I barely completed in decent fashion but hung nonetheless for several years afterward on a wall of our home.

Little did I know I was doing my infinitesimal part to carry on the grand tradition of artists like Gustave Courbet, Frida Kahlo and George Stubbs.

I am pretty sure I was given my oil painting kit as a birthday present when I was probably 8 or 9.

I might not have thought about deer as an art subject since.

Then came this week.

I was smacked hard by a photograph that slapped up against the side of my head. It came from a surprising source and put me on an unexpected and equally unlikely quest.

The deer image that grabbed me by the antlers and rolled me down a hill was an incredible photograph snapped by a trail camera.

Over the years, especially since the increasing popularity and availability of trail cameras, I have probably seen thousands of deer photos. Most of them are posted online by hunters wanting to show what has been sniffing around their bait piles.

So many of these images — especially the ones taken at night — seem to capture little beyond a regal animal looking dazed or befuddled through a grainy presentation, like a proverbial “deer in the headlights.”

However, the photo that I saw posted on a social media site, jumped out of my computer screen, perhaps literally. I can say for certain it knocked me out.

I keep wanting to call it a painting because that is what it looked like to me. If I turned the image to black and white, it made it even more dramatic.

The photo showed a buck racing through a corn field with none of its feet touching the ground, its tongue hanging out of the side of its mouth and dead and dried leaves of cornstalks entangled in its antlers.

Those leaves, and one corn stalk, trailed behind the deer’s head like a mane, with the animal’s tail bent downward with an odd crook to it.

The left side of the photograph showed nothing but dried corn stalks standing silent and tall, which gave a more intense sense of movement to the buck in its dash.

In the background, the top of a hill with tall trees growing on it is seen. This indicates that the deer is not only in a full run but is doing so downhill.

An advertising slogan proclaims that “Nothing runs like a deere.”

After seeing this photo, put me down as a true believer.

I think whoever owns this photo should reproduce it. I know there would be more than myself who would want one. I am very thankful for the person who posted this image on the Internet. You certainly inspired me.

I kept looking at this picture and then found myself returning to it again and again. I wanted to be swept up in the motion and action of this incredible scene from live nature.

A day or so after I first saw this picture, I wondered if there might be more deer trail camera photos that could be seen in an artistic sense and admired as works of art.

Surprisingly, I found that the answer was a definitive “Yes!”

Having seen so many photos of deer and this artistic aspect of the imagery never hitting me was a perplexing mystery to me. It was as though after years of blindly crawling along the ground, suddenly, I was inside, seeing these pictures on an entirely different level. The magic had been revealed to me.

I almost immediately thought that someone should do an art exhibit of these types of images. Then I thought of the landmark night wildlife photography of George Shiras, which made me think of how many times I have stared at his photos.

This reinforced my thinking that an art exhibit of trail camera images would be a good idea. This is usually about the time I find out people have already been doing this for decades and I am just now arriving at the party about the time they run out of punch.

So far, I haven’t checked. I want to bask in the glow of what might be a novel idea for as long as possible.

Other candidates for my artistic deer trail camera photos included one image shot at night that showed a buck with one antler braving a snowstorm. The deer is walking along a trail into a small clearing, with countless snowflakes catching and reflecting the light.

A couple other photos I liked looked like they were taken out of 1940s or 1950s calendar art. The colored images had a dated look to them, with the deer simply walking through the frame, but with some of their characteristic attributes displayed, like power, grace and form.

This week’s unexpected exploration was striking to me. I have to say it was a very pleasant surprise to be so smitten immediately with a piece of art that came at me sideways and directly out of nowhere, or I should say, out of a cornfield.

Of course, now I am walking around wondering what other beauty, magic and art I may be passing by frequently, blithely oblivious. God only knows.

Another thing this picture of the deer and the cornfield did for me that was unexpected was it made me want to get outside and get back out there into nature, into the wild where real life is happening.

Wherever this buck is today, I hope he survives the deer hunting seasons. I say that somewhat selfishly because this animal so deeply inspired me on many levels, immediately. I want him to still be out there thrashing through a farmer’s fields so that I might one day run across him myself.

If that astronomical coincidence should arise, I would hope that it would be just outside a cornfield, about midway down a hill, where the corn grows tall, and the deer run fast, with manes of dried corn leaves fixed to their antlers.

The only thing better than the action captured in this photo would be experiencing it in person, right before my own eyes.

Thank you, great harvesttime buck for the example of your full-bore unapologetic living, your majesty, strength and power and simultaneous grace, agility and beauty.

I can see how the painters in the caves of Lascaux might have been inspired to paint deer and other large animals they encountered in their primal surroundings.

After my experience of just enjoying this photograph, I almost feel brave enough to return to the canvas myself to try to paint or draw what I saw and felt in that beautiful and captivating image.

But this time, it couldn’t be paint by number. I’m no good at that.

My mind is racing as I am sitting here, thinking back through thousands of things I’ve experienced in nature that no doubt might have made great photos or artwork of some other kind.

Some of those I have captured on film or my photo card, but others are left flickering and fading in my memory.

In many cases, they were experienced by no one else but me.

Someday, they will all be gone, like a buck racing out of a cornfield.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Outdoors North is a weekly column produced by the Michigan Department of Natural Resources on a wide range of topics important to those who enjoy and appreciate Michigan’s world-class natural resources of the Upper Peninsula.