THE YEAR 3000
If we survive to the year 3000, and I have not yet encountered a truly valid reason why we shouldn't, I perceive a world that is literally covered with bioscapes.
I see large sections of very old-growth trees where trees have never existed before. There are manicured fields stretching as far as the eye can see, deliberately laced and folded together with large hedgerows of trees, parks and gardens dividing the fields.
It is a place where the diversity of plants far outweighs the needs of the masses, and the needs of nature are being honored instead of abused.
Jutting up from this abundant background of green, brown, and yellow are brand-new cities. Almost without exception, they are located inland, away from the ocean edges.
Most appear to be near circular by design. They are formed of concentric rings, with six or seven grassy, garden-covered spokes running from the center ring to the outer ring edges.
There are collections of buildings, mostly white, glimmering at the center with stubby skyscrapers interlocked. Glass-like and well-covered pedestrian raceways fill the voids between the towers, some rising as high as twenty floors above the gardens below. These city cores are much smaller than I would have expected, perhaps forty or fifty buildings in all. It is hard to tell where the base is for most of these buildings. Some seem to be embedded in the ground almost as deep as they are above it.