Dougherty Arts Center
Austin: Destroying Deer Habitat Since at Least the 19th Century
RECEIVED Mon., May 3, 2004
Dear Editor,
Elisabeth Ruggles laments homeless deer bleating in distress outside her apartment, saying development demolished their habitat for "whatever it is [developers] are going to build" ["Postmarks," April 30]. Sympathizing with her broken heart, I hope she seriously considers its cause, gets it repaired, and moves on with her life. What "they" are building is an apartment for her.
"They" (like the visionary Shipe once did) build for Ms. Ruggles, in country settings, situating civilization's amenities nearby for her convenience. Philosophy: "They" build it and she will come. Inversely: She doesn't come, "they" don't build anymore. Use it and "they" will build more. And the bleat goes on.
She writes that readers may have heard deer bleating out in the woods but she hears one at her apartment in North Austin near 620, or as she says, "in the city." She should differentiate between living in the "city" vs. living "in town." Austin's inevitable growth has destroyed deer habitat since at least the 19th century as sites for what are now Austin's most venerable neighborhoods: Swedish Hill, Hyde Park, Travis Heights, Tarrytown, Rosedale, and Zilker, to name a few, because people want to live there. Deer work at home. Probably Ms. Ruggles doesn't. She has to work and live somewhere, compounding the homeless deer problem.
For whom the deer bleats? It bleats for you, Ms. Ruggles. And the bleating will continue if you live where the deer [and the antelope] play. But to reassure her, there are dozens of neighborhoods in Austin where deer bleat contentedly supping placidly on abundant flora and drinking from puddles of sprinkler water graciously provided by humans. They barely acknowledge humans by so much as a "Wuzzup" bleat. Ms. Ruggles, get into town, get earplugs, but whatever, get real.
Elisabeth Ruggles laments homeless deer bleating in distress outside her apartment, saying development demolished their habitat for "whatever it is [developers] are going to build" ["Postmarks," April 30]. Sympathizing with her broken heart, I hope she seriously considers its cause, gets it repaired, and moves on with her life. What "they" are building is an apartment for her.
"They" (like the visionary Shipe once did) build for Ms. Ruggles, in country settings, situating civilization's amenities nearby for her convenience. Philosophy: "They" build it and she will come. Inversely: She doesn't come, "they" don't build anymore. Use it and "they" will build more. And the bleat goes on.
She writes that readers may have heard deer bleating out in the woods but she hears one at her apartment in North Austin near 620, or as she says, "in the city." She should differentiate between living in the "city" vs. living "in town." Austin's inevitable growth has destroyed deer habitat since at least the 19th century as sites for what are now Austin's most venerable neighborhoods: Swedish Hill, Hyde Park, Travis Heights, Tarrytown, Rosedale, and Zilker, to name a few, because people want to live there. Deer work at home. Probably Ms. Ruggles doesn't. She has to work and live somewhere, compounding the homeless deer problem.
For whom the deer bleats? It bleats for you, Ms. Ruggles. And the bleating will continue if you live where the deer [and the antelope] play. But to reassure her, there are dozens of neighborhoods in Austin where deer bleat contentedly supping placidly on abundant flora and drinking from puddles of sprinkler water graciously provided by humans. They barely acknowledge humans by so much as a "Wuzzup" bleat. Ms. Ruggles, get into town, get earplugs, but whatever, get real.
Sam Griswold
