The other day, I read a post that stuck in my head. It was about the future of mankind. About our ever evolving world. Later that night, I walked into my clothes closet where my eye wandered along a row of garments ready for spring. Linen garments. I prefer clothing made from natural fibers. I enjoy looking at the warp and the weave of it. The feel of it. I began to postulate a world in which natural fibers no longer exist because such fibers would be considered too expensive to produce. There would, after all, be no room in the pods for growing cotton or for tending silk worms or for raising sheep.
Would our aesthetics change? Our tactile senses dull? Our visual pleasures evolve? If so, they would evolve into what? Already, I have replaced my long silk underwear with some space age synthetic fabric guaranteed warmer than silk. It is. My wool socks are now made of synthetic fibers that are more absorbent, cushier, and more comfortable than wool. They do not shrink or lose their shape. The underwear feels fine; it does not feel like silk. The socks are superior to the old wool ones, but they are not wool. I tell myself that. I still like the new socks better. What will people wear in the next century? I cannot imagine. I do not believe the fabrics will be linen, wool, cotton or silk. There will be no more zillion-thread count Egyptian cotton bed linens. The ones made of wood either. School children will visit the textile museum to view my bed sheets and giggle.
Will the future denizens of our planet live above or below the ground? I suspect they will dwell in cubicles surrounded by walls made of much more efficient materials than wood, slate, natural stone or handmade bricks.
Will they see the sun…ever? The real sun, I mean. Not the artificial, piped-in and digitized spring morning complete with fake blue sky, fake birdsong, and fake sunshine. Will these people have a memory of sunshine after the second generation? Or will they no longer require even the representation of a natural world?
First thing in the morning, I think I will sit in the wooden pergola and watch the hybridized grass grow.