We walked in a Cleveland park, once the homestead of a wealthy industrialist, now the domain of wildlife, woods and overgrowth. As we walked, a man on a bicycle stopped and told us of a wounded deer. “Its leg’s broke, she can barely walk and there’s coyotes here.” We promised to be on the lookout for the deer. We walked on through the woods, around the great, paved circle that was the driveway to the mansion. Once there were grand carriages and limousines, now squirrels, coyotes and, somewhere, a wounded deer. We walked on and saw the man sitting on a bench, his bicycle by his side, looking out across a small lake with a boathouse and an island at…