He knew the solitary ancient wall he was standing at was from before the time of the first historians, but he couldn’t get a sense for that long ago a time until he reached out to touch it and had crumbs dislodge in his hand.  Those crumbs of brick dirt soon began to weigh on him.  They had survived in a wall from the early days of man civilizing himself within walls, and would now be lost to the wind were he to simply brush off his hands.  Were he to make the entire wall disappear in this manner, also lost would be the pictures of caravans it evoked in his mind, of animals grazing nearby, of people stopping in its morning or afternoon shade before making their crossovers towards the town (going one way) or into the wilderness (going the other).  Without the wall, without these pictures in his mind, time would feel shorter and lighter for having lost all that weight.