At the beginning of the twentieth century, in the era of horse railways, flag-officer György Adorján etched into the clinker wall of the University during the probably boring hours of his job whatever just came to him. The naive work, made with great care, has conserved his memory until this spring.
In some cities they manage to consciously preserve such little signs of the past, and this is not only mere sentimentalism, but also image building. Because the history of a city is made especially personal, and the city itself attractive and unique by these little stories which invite you to get to know it. Where we destroy our own values so that we do not even realize the devastation, the culture of poverty has won.
I think this is the same problem that we so often face during our efforts of public garden development. Such as the public worker who cuts off even for the third time the freshly planted shrubs instead of going round them, because it really does not matter to him, and anyway, when else could he play with an electric lawn mower. How much richer we would be if we could just attain the blessed state of leaving things alone.