From the floor to ceiling windows of my parents house in Minnesota, which sits at the edge of a forest, I have a breathtaking view of tall pines speckled with snow and bare trees rising in levels along the soft incline of curvaceous hills. Through the glass, the picture is astounding - the snow, the wide variety of birds and their melodious tweets, the inexplicable serenity and calm, and, as I witnessed yesterday, the deer. Yes, deer. Beautiful, large-eyed does strolling in packs of five or six, winding through the trees towards a large bird-feeder that hangs just out of reach of the shadows. As I watched these animals, all I could think was, "How can anyone hunt them?" And yet, in Minnesota, the killing of such innocent beings is legal and considered a right. Humanity is awful, and the vision through my window is just an illusion of peace.