I have a thing for ruins. I don’t quite understand why. Something about the echoes of History I think.  When I see a ruin, I try to imagine what it looked like in its prime. The years of neglect fall away and in my mind’s eye, I see the place come to life.  I picture people inhabiting the place, going about their daily lives, oblivious of the fact that it would one day lay barren. I think of the activities that could have taken place there, the laughter that echoed in its walls, the rage it endured, the tears it absorbed and the secrets it held. I see the sunrays…