Brick Heaven

We have found it- the place where all the good bricks go when they die.

It’s called our backyard.

The boys and I are digging out the topsoil in a small area of our yard so we can put in new, uncontaminated (supposedly) topsoil and then plant a veggie garden. Now, we are used to the travails of digging in an old urban area. Broken bricks, glass, miscellaneous trash- we have been dealing with this for years. But this particular area that we have chosen for our victory garden is a little bit beyond the norm. Row upon row of perfect bricks, lined up neatly on their sides, squeezed tightly together just a few inches below the surface. It’s like a mass grave- I wonder what merciless brick genocide happened here? Is this the forgotten evidence of the horrors of progress- defenseless old buildings demolished without pity or respect, torn down viciously to clear the way for modernity? Not that our house is modern, by any stretch…nor does the demolishing of old buildings even distantly compare to the atrocity of true genocide…but you get the point.

Well, these recovered bricks will now get the respect and proper burial they deserve. I will use them for the brick walkway I began some months ago, for them to be walked upon with dignity until the next wave of progress crashes over our neighborhood- perhaps, hopefully, long after we have gone on to our own burial grounds- and they are pulled up again and dumped into another mass grave.

Makes me glad that I’m not a brick.