I swear to God, the little herd of whitetail deer that bounds across our clearing between house and woods each morning around seven must have gotten Florida Governor Ron DeSantis’s memo. They arrived on time, but instead of clustering close together as they normally do, I saw one pop out of the woods, then several beats of time and about six feet later, another, then another and yet another, each strung out with the recommended social distancing. One doe stopped to reach up to eat some greenery from a low-hanging tree branch. When she stopped, so did the others. When she took another step, so did they.