3.15 on Friday aftenoon.
The sun is shining.
The school is a large primary in the centre of a city. 330 children. That equals a lot of people at pick-up time.
The playground is urban, well landscaped, green but surrounded by houses and the road isn't busy with traffic but there are parked cars and bicycles everywhere.
The children are all coming out of their classrooms.
Parents (mostly mummies) are standing round, chatting, hugging their children as they rush out.
Younger siblings are hanging off the climbing frames (not allowed but...) chasing each other and generally getting in the way of everyone collecting their scooters and bikes from the sheds.
Then suddenly there is a muntjac deer running through the crowds and desperately trying to find the exit. It hides momentarily in the hedge but then makes a bid for freedom out of the gate, dodging the scooters and book bags and disappears into the grounds of the education building next door.
Everyone in the playground is either standing with jaws dropped (no, not drawers) or saying 'What? Where? I don't believe you.'
And two days later, even though I saw the poor beastie with my own eyes, I still can't quite believe it either.