here I grew up in the south of England, the railings from the front gardens of almost all the houses were missing. Little metal stubs were all that remained. Gates and fences, sliced off over 70 years ago and taken away for the war effort, were made into munitions and other urgent supplies. They were never replaced. Recently, walking round south London, I realised that the fences of many of the housing estates here are made from metal stretchers used in the war, recycled from those gates and railings. The perfect circle. Many of those housing estates also once had sculptures made by Henry Moore outside them too, but almost all of those have gone, stolen to be melted down to make who knows what. Not such a perfect circle, but still part of a cycle of reinvention. Not until our imaginations run out completely can we throw something away. Everything can be retrieved somehow.