When I was in sixth grade, Mrs. Black had us do a very interesting science experiment which would have a subtle impact upon me all my life. We each took an empty 2-liter bottle home and filled it with various organic odds and ends: leaves, blades of grass, eggshells, tablescraps, and so on. The next day, these waste-bottles were set around the classroom and mother nature was set free to work on them. Over the weeks we observed as scraps of lettuce and french fries slowly rotted away. What initially seemed like a pretty dumb experiment-- of course it's gonna wither away!-- turned out to be something of an eye-opener to me. I was struck by the beauty of decay, which bears witness to the melancholy yet liberating understanding that all things are perpetually spiralling into oblivion.
The natural course of man-made structures is to crumble. Just as the unwanted scraps in that science experiment rotted away, so too do the greatest cities and nations of the world. Of course, we can't usually see this, because we exert tremendous energy repairing and rebuilding and repaving everything. But give the janitors a long vacation, send the construction workers elsewhere, and generally vacate the city, and you won't have a long wait before it all begins to break down. And as it breaks down, it gives way to a subtle, stirring beauty.
I long to stand atop a mountain overlooking some giant abandoned city, blessed with the eyesight of an eagle, and watch it turn to dust. I wish that this could be possible, that I were not limited by a lifespan less than a hundredth of the time it would require, even if I found the mountain and the city and the eagle eyes. Alas, long before I could watch the last skyscraper collapse beneath the weight of vines, my own body would topple first.
If you took the world and placed it in a box, detached from the rays of light from the sun and the stars, all life would end and all structures would disintegrate. All that allows our ecology to thrive, to build upon itself, is the energy sent by the sun. Because of this energy, life stirs, green things spring forth, and sentient beings evolve and build structure everywhere. But the sun itself is not eternal. In time, the world will be deprived of her golden lord, if she isn't smashed apart by some other apocalypse in the meantime.
The Buddhists have a famous saying: "This, too, shall pass." As for me, I'm glad! Sure, I'll miss things as they pass away. When I myself pass away-- if I'm still capable of missing things at all-- I'll miss this world. But in fading, the shallow and artificial decorations of the world will give way to the deep, awesome beauty of decay.
FURTHER READING
The Joy of Change
Short Story: The Balancing Beetles
Short-Term Assets vs. Long-Term Assets
The natural course of man-made structures is to crumble. Just as the unwanted scraps in that science experiment rotted away, so too do the greatest cities and nations of the world. Of course, we can't usually see this, because we exert tremendous energy repairing and rebuilding and repaving everything. But give the janitors a long vacation, send the construction workers elsewhere, and generally vacate the city, and you won't have a long wait before it all begins to break down. And as it breaks down, it gives way to a subtle, stirring beauty.
I long to stand atop a mountain overlooking some giant abandoned city, blessed with the eyesight of an eagle, and watch it turn to dust. I wish that this could be possible, that I were not limited by a lifespan less than a hundredth of the time it would require, even if I found the mountain and the city and the eagle eyes. Alas, long before I could watch the last skyscraper collapse beneath the weight of vines, my own body would topple first.
If you took the world and placed it in a box, detached from the rays of light from the sun and the stars, all life would end and all structures would disintegrate. All that allows our ecology to thrive, to build upon itself, is the energy sent by the sun. Because of this energy, life stirs, green things spring forth, and sentient beings evolve and build structure everywhere. But the sun itself is not eternal. In time, the world will be deprived of her golden lord, if she isn't smashed apart by some other apocalypse in the meantime.
The Buddhists have a famous saying: "This, too, shall pass." As for me, I'm glad! Sure, I'll miss things as they pass away. When I myself pass away-- if I'm still capable of missing things at all-- I'll miss this world. But in fading, the shallow and artificial decorations of the world will give way to the deep, awesome beauty of decay.
FURTHER READING
The Joy of Change
Short Story: The Balancing Beetles
Short-Term Assets vs. Long-Term Assets
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1 comments:
Have you seen the TV show "Life After People"? I think it's on the Discovery Channel. I saw part of the season opener and it's basically showing what would happen and how long it would take for things to decay if humans just suddenly vanished. I particularly liked the parts where they actually did look at a place where humans did just vanish--Chernobyl. It's made an amazing comeback, considering.
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