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thanateThe ghost deer were running again, and everyone was glued to the traffic reports, as usual. Carina had left home half an hour early, but the herd had made it to I-347 before she got there, and there was no telling how long it would be before anyone would be able to get through again. She turned around at the DNR roadblock and went back three exits before she could find a coffee shop that wasn't packed yet. Her boss, who lived three blocks from the office, was probably going to count this against her vacation days, but at least she wasn't stuck waiting around until the emergency road crews got through and hoping the next herd didn't move in before she could get home.
When the deer had first changed their migration routes, there'd been a lot of ill-conceived attempts to build overpasses and greenways to keep them out of the city's way. But the resonance of several million hooves, each set carrying a thousand-pound animal at a dead run, had brought down even the most earthquake-ready highways, and when the ghost deer carried on running through the rubble and trampled the fallen cars, it had seemed easier just to close the center of the city for a day or two until the herds had passed.
Every so often some politician or other would make a statement about trying to get rid of the animals-- or "control the population," for those who professed to be nature lovers-- after all, they weren't exactly, well, endangered. This would have caught on a lot better if anyone had been able to come up with a way to kill something that seemed to be impervious to falling buildings and machine gun fire.
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This snippet courtesy of too much highway driving & contemplation of all the migrating birds & butterflies who don't make it past our freeway system. Out west, the mule deer... well "hold their own" isn't exactly the right term for being able to take out the semi that kills them. But there's nothing out there that can stop a car with that kind of devastating effect and just keep on going, and part of me kind of wishes there were. Not that I had a plot to go with it or anything.
Xposty from dreamwidth.
When the deer had first changed their migration routes, there'd been a lot of ill-conceived attempts to build overpasses and greenways to keep them out of the city's way. But the resonance of several million hooves, each set carrying a thousand-pound animal at a dead run, had brought down even the most earthquake-ready highways, and when the ghost deer carried on running through the rubble and trampled the fallen cars, it had seemed easier just to close the center of the city for a day or two until the herds had passed.
Every so often some politician or other would make a statement about trying to get rid of the animals-- or "control the population," for those who professed to be nature lovers-- after all, they weren't exactly, well, endangered. This would have caught on a lot better if anyone had been able to come up with a way to kill something that seemed to be impervious to falling buildings and machine gun fire.
--------
This snippet courtesy of too much highway driving & contemplation of all the migrating birds & butterflies who don't make it past our freeway system. Out west, the mule deer... well "hold their own" isn't exactly the right term for being able to take out the semi that kills them. But there's nothing out there that can stop a car with that kind of devastating effect and just keep on going, and part of me kind of wishes there were. Not that I had a plot to go with it or anything.
Xposty from dreamwidth.