While writing a paper on health and global distributive justice, it struck me that as the global population declines, if it declines, millions of homes and other structures will sit empty. Of course, this won’t be the first time in history that the remnants of civilizations are left like bones, cleaned of flesh and animation.
But I had a strong visual of the landscape and, I suppose, a strong wave of humility as I considered the scene.
What would it have been like to walk past the empty palaces of fallen empires while the echoes of its inhabitants still ring?
I suppose the scene isn’t so alien. The village I grew up in was razed to the ground as a consequence of the changing face of the woods industry.
And so many structures are standing empty in the wake of so many wars still being fought.
Perhaps a draft has reached me through my insulation. I’m writing in a safe and quiet place. I’m on one side of a wall, and winter is on the other. I’m on one side of a wall, and the world is on another.