Living ruins

I have a thing for ruins.  I would rather walk through an airplane graveyard than a pristine rain forest, or explore an abandoned shopping mall than a snow-covered mountain. Alain de Botton understands this impulse: “Ruins pose a direct challenge to our concern with power and rank, with bustle and fame.  They puncture the inflated folly of our exhaustive and frenetic pursuit of wealth. . . . The disintegrating Continental Airlines 747 . . . seems the equivalent, for myself, of the Colosseum in Rome.” (The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work 315).

It is in this spirit of inquiry that I was both fascinated and intrigued by the story of Kitsault, B.C.

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